


Wide Open Spaces

by bellacatbee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Bottom Castiel, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Small Towns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-12 03:49:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellacatbee/pseuds/bellacatbee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is supposed to drive Sam across country to his new job but, driving late at night, Dean runs them off the road onto farmland and straight into the side of a barn. Dean is arrested for dangerous driving and sentenced to community service, fixing what he broke at the farm. </p><p>At first, Dean just wants to finish and get the hell out of town, but to his surprise he finds himself drawn to Castiel Novak, the farm’s owner. </p><p>Castiel is unlike anyone else Dean has ever met. Dean begins to fall for him and for the quiet country life Castiel leads.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wide Open Spaces

**Author's Note:**

> This story is inspired by Doc Hollywood. This isn’t supposed to be a realistic representation of the American legal system, but a very Hollywood inspired one so Dean and Castiel could meet. 
> 
> Thank you to authocracy and rudywolfe for beta and suggestions.
> 
> This story was written for the deancashappyendings challenge.

One summer.

That was all they had left together, one summer. One summer before Sammy went off to New York, took his place in a prestigious law firm and got his life together. One summer that Dean planned on making the best of their lives. He’d picked Sam up from Stanford, told Sam they were going on a road trip and hadn’t looked back. 

He’d got it all planned. Three glorious months of driving across country together, going state to state; trying new things, meeting new people, a glorious adventure. One final brotherly bonding holiday; staying in motels, sightseeing and building memories. Dean had planned to take hundreds of pictures so that he’d always have something to hold on to, a physical reminder of the wonderful time they’d had together. 

That had been Dean’s plan at least. 

Now they were halfway through Iowa and the trip had mostly consisted of bickering, sulking and one prank war neither of them was going to talk about ever again. Sam was asleep in the passenger seat, his jacket pulled up over him, and body hunched up in a tight ball. Dean glanced over at him, taking his eyes off the road, and sighed. He’d wanted this trip to be something special, something they both enjoyed, something they could look back on fondly now that Sam was going to be all the way across country. 

Dean had managed Stanford. He’d got himself a job, he’d pulled his weight, but New York was different. Sam was going to be a hotshot junior lawyer in a big firm. He’d get himself a fancy apartment and a beautiful girlfriend. He’d live the sort of life he was always supposed to, defending big name clients and raking in the cash. Living with his high-school dropout bother didn’t fit in with that kind of life. 

Dean had always known eventually he’d have to let Sam go. He’d always known Sam was made for better things but that didn’t make it any easier when the time arrived. He’d wanted to hang on to his little brother for just a little longer. Now it seemed all he was doing was creating a rift between the two of them. Sam wasn’t going to remember this trip fondly. He was just going to see it as another good reason for putting the miles between them. 

Dean sighed, turning his attention back to the road. 

It all happened in a split-second. He didn’t even have time to think. 

The deer darted out into the middle of the road, freezing in his headlights. Dean turned the steering wheel hard and the car shot off the road, narrowly missing the deer in front of them. 

They crashed through bushes and grass, rolling down the hillside. Dean jammed his foot on the brakes but the car kept going, the tires squealing in protest as the car bounced and rattled. 

They smashed through a fence at the bottom of the hill and Dean threw his arms up to cover his face, convinced that any second now part of a fence post was going to come smashing through the window, but the car just kept going. 

He uncovered his face just long enough to see that they were heading for the side of a barn then covered his head again, praying as they slammed into it. The wood cracked and gave way and the car ploughed on, in to a heap of straw, where it finally, mercifully, came to a stop.

Dean took a second to look around, to make sure that he was okay. Sam snored on in the seat beside him and Dean slumped back, thanking his lucky stars. He didn’t know how Sam could manage to sleep through something like that but he was glad he did. Dean had seen his whole life flash before his eyes and he wasn’t eager for Sam to experience the same thing.

The whole ordeal had taken less than a minute. 

Dean reached out, touching Sam’s shoulder gently, slowly starting to shake him awake. He didn’t know what he was going to say to Sam or how he was going to explain it. He didn’t even know what damage he’d done to the car yet. He could worry about the car once Sam was awake though. Even if Sam was snoring, Dean wanted to make sure he was really okay, that there weren’t any cuts or bruises he couldn’t see.

“Sam? Sammy, come on, wake up,” he hissed. 

Sam mumbled in his sleep, his eyelids flickering and he slowly opened his eyes, looking up at Dean.

“What’s up? Are we at the motel?” he asked. 

“Not quite. I kind of…there was this stupid deer in the middle of the road!” 

“What?” Sam furrowed his brow. “I don’t understand.” 

“I crashed the car,” Dean said, unable to stop the guilt that crept into his voice. It hadn’t been his fault; he’d only looked away from the road for a few seconds. It was really that deer’s fault for running out in front of him. 

“You crashed the car?” Sam sat up, looking about him. “Where the hell are we Dean? Is this a barn?” 

“Uh, yeah, I think it is.”

“Do you think we should go for help? Does the car need to be towed?” Sam started to struggle with his seat belt.

“Sammy, just slow down, I…” Dean didn’t get to finish that thought. There was a tap on the window and he turned round, right into the barrel of a shotgun. 

At the other end of the shot gun, finger on the trigger, was a young man with wild black hair and narrowed blue eyes. He was in his pajamas and he looked decidedly unimpressed.

Dean knew two things about him for certain – one: that this must be the young man's property Dean had crashed into, and two: that the man looked undeniably hot with his bed-head and shot gun.

“Stay where you are. My brother’s calling the cops,” the young man said. 

Dean held his hands up, the universal sign of surrender. 

“We’re not going anywhere,” he promised with a tired sigh. 

**

A night in jail hadn’t done anything to sweeten Dean’s disposition. He’d tried to explain that the crash had been an accident but he and Sam had still had to take a breathalyser test. That had been after he’d been marched into the kitchen of a farm house at gun point. 

The sheriff and her deputy had arrived a little while after, along with a grumpy old man who’d towed baby out of the barn and Dean had finally been able to see the damage done to her body work. There were a lot of bangs, a couple of scratches to the paintwork. It could have been a lot worse but it would still mean hours of work for Dean, getting her back to perfect. His car had been towed away and impounded, and Dean and Sam had spent the night in a prison cell. 

Now his back was aching, Sam was muttering about false arrest and Dean knew that he’d have to cut their trip short. That was the part that upset him the most. It wasn’t the first time he’d crashed the car and he’d always been able to fix her before, but it had never stung like this before. 

This was going to be the last memory of their trip – crashing the car and getting arrested. Sam would take off to New York, Dean would head back to Stanford and when they talked about it, they’d shake their heads and wish things had been different. This wasn’t what Dean had planned at all and the frustration, the fact that he couldn’t do anything to fix it, ate him up inside. 

He was pacing back and forth inside their cell when the Sheriff came to fetch them. 

“You boys are lucky our judge was free,” she said. 

“You know this is ridiculous, don’t you?” Sam huffed. 

“Not the way I see it. Your brother here was driving too fast. If he’d been going at a reasonable speed he’d have been able to stop in time, he wouldn’t have had to swerve. He’s also already admitted he wasn’t looking at the road.” She glanced at Dean and shook her head slowly. “In my books that’s dangerous driving.”

“You can’t hold me,” Sam said. “I was only a passenger.” 

“I’m letting you go,” the sheriff said. “You can collect your things at the front desk. Your brother has got a date with the judge.” 

Dean let himself be handcuffed, glaring at the wall opposite him. He knew enough not to mouth off or doing anything stupid, it wasn’t his first time getting arrested, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t think the whole thing was a colossal waste of his and everyone else’s time.

Sam hovered in the open cell door, torn between collecting his things and staying with Dean. 

“I’ll meet you at the courthouse, Dean,” he said finally, making up his mind. “Don’t let them start without me; I’ll be your legal representation.” 

He darted down the hallway and the sheriff looked after him, her eyebrow raised. 

“He just passed the bar,” Dean said by way of explanation. He chuckled softly. “I’ll be his first case and already he’s working pro bono.”

“Good luck to him,” the sheriff said dryly. 

** 

The courthouse was in the centre of town. It wasn’t a large building and the courtroom inside was packed. There were people crowded on to every available seat. Dean wondered if they had nothing better to do or if this town was really small enough that someone accidentally running off the road and crashing into a barn was that big a story. They certainly couldn’t have any real crime going on if this drew people in off the streets. 

Sam was already waiting for him. He’d obviously been able to get changed because he wasn’t wearing the jeans and shirt he’d been in the last time Dean had seen him. He looked smart in a nice jacket and tie. He even looked professional although seeing him standing at the front of the courtroom, all Dean could really think about was how young Sam seemed. It made his stomach flip unpleasantly, reminded that Sam had never tried a case on his own. Sam had assisted but that was all. 

Dean was brought to the front of the court, the handcuffs removed and he took his seat beside Sam, trying to quiet his fears. He glanced around the courtroom again, feeling as if everyone’s eyes were on him and they probably where.

He’d seen a lot of movies about little towns and their backwards justice systems. Dean really didn’t want to end sacrificed in a corn field, although admittedly that was the least likely outcome. He also didn’t want to spend any time in jail because someone had an axe to grind. 

“Are you sure about this, Sam?” he asked his brother. “I mean, can’t you ask for this to get postponed? Don’t you need time to prepare your case?” 

“Dean, do you want to be stuck in that jail cell for a couple of weeks while I get a case together?” Sam asked. “Look, this is all a misunderstanding anyway. It was an accident. I’m sure the judge will see it that way.” 

“How sure?” Dean asked. 

Sam didn’t get a chance to answer. There was a call for silence in court and then a request for them all to stand for the judge. Dean swallowed down his nerves, told himself that the things he saw on TV were just stories made up to keep him and people like him entertained for a few hours and reminded himself that Sammy had graduated second in his class. 

The judge entered the courtroom from a side door. He was an old man with a greying beard and hair. He walked slowly and Dean had the feeling he’d seen him somewhere before. He stared at the man, trying to figure out who the man was and where he’d seen him. Then it hit him all at once. 

Dean leant across to Sam, hissing “The guy who runs the salvage yard is their judge? Sam, what kind of hick town are we in!” 

“Shut up, Dean!” Sam snapped. “As your lawyer, I’m telling you to keep your mouth shut before you get yourself in any more trouble.”

“What are they gonna do?”

“They could throw you back in jail on a contempt of court charge. I mean it Dean, sit down and keep your mouth closed.” 

Dean shut his mouth, fuming silently. He sat back down, along with the rest of the courtroom and glared at the old man. What could he possibly know about the law or about judging cases? He ran a salvage yard. As far as Dean was aware, making a living out of scrap metal didn’t qualify anyone to sit in judgment of anyone else. 

He wondered why Sam didn’t make some sort of objection, maybe request that they moved to a different courthouse, somewhere without a judge who was immediately going to be hostile to Dean. The man had been to the crash site. He’d towed Dean’s car away. He’d probably already made a decision about Dean and if his driving had been dangerous. Surely that had to be a breach of ethics or something. 

Sam should know these things, shouldn’t he? Dean was sure he’d seen something like this on an old episode of Matlock or maybe Perry Mason. 

The judge, Bobby Singer gazed around the courtroom before finally his gaze landed on Dean. He stared at Dean and Dean stared back, defiant. Finally Judge Singer looked away, shaking his head with a sigh. 

“Why’d you get me out of bed for this, Jody?” he asked, addressing the sheriff. “If they pay a fine, I say we toss them back on the road, let them get on with it.” 

Dean blinked and then nudged Sam in the ribs, unable to hide his grin. A fine, they could pay a fine and get on their way and that would be everything over and done with. Sam could stride into his new office, stretch the truth a bit and say he’d won his first case over the summer. 

“I got you out of bed,” Jody, the sheriff, said. “Because that’s my job. I uphold the law in this town and you’re supposed to back me up and enforce it.” 

“Look at them, Jody, you can see as well as I can that they’re nothing but trouble. If they pay the fine, we can pass the money on to the Novak boys and they can fix up their farm.” 

Dean didn’t even care if the judge thought he and Sam were trouble, although he could feel Sam bristling beside him, knew Sam was biting back some comment about how he wasn’t trouble. Dean didn’t care what he was called or what insinuations were made against his character. He just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. He and Sam could have a good laugh about it later, when they were out on the road so he gave Sam another sharp jab in the ribs, this time a warning to keep quiet. 

“But I don’t want that!” someone called out. 

Dean turned just in time to see the young man, the same one who’d held Dean at gun point the night before, rise out of his seat. 

“Castiel,” the judge said warningly. “You know you’re not supposed to interrupt court.”

“Because this is such a professionally run courtroom,” Sam muttered, shifting unhappily in his chair. Dean jabbed him again, just for good measure. Sam had already warned him about contempt of court charges. He didn’t want to have to spend any extra time trapped in the town because Sam couldn’t keep his mouth shut. 

“Then swear me in. Do whatever you have to do. I want to have my say too,” Castiel said firmly. 

Jody turned to the judge, a smug smile on her face. “Victims testimony. I think you should hear that, don’t you?” 

“Fine,” Bobby grumbled, rubbing a hand over his face. “But make it quick.”

“Is this going to be a problem?” Dean whispered to Sam, suddenly seeing his easy fine disappearing in front of his eyes. 

“What can he say that the judge doesn’t already know?” Sam whispered back. 

Castiel cleared his throat, shifting nervously now all the eyes in the court room were upon him but he stood his ground, his expression filled with determination. 

Dean felt his heartbeat quicken. Whatever Sam said, Dean didn’t have the same certainty. 

“Money isn’t going to do us any good,” Castiel said slowly. “It will buy supplies but it won’t fix the barn or the fence that he broke. Gabriel and I are by ourselves. We have a lot of work to do, work that takes up all our time without having to worry about mending things. What I would like, with the courts permission, is to request that Mr Winchester receives community service as his punishment. I’d also like to request that his community service is performed at the farm. I’d like him to fix the things he broke.” 

“Is that even legal?” Dean asked, turning back to look at his brother. 

Sam nodded, his face slightly pale and he didn’t look anywhere near as certain as he had before. “Yes. You can be compelled to do it as part of your sentencing.” 

“I can also offer the prisoner a place to stay while he completes his sentence,” Castiel continued. “We’ve got the spare room.” 

“And what if he tries to run?” Bobby asked. 

“Then I’ll shot him,” Castiel said calmly. “But I’ll try to aim for the shoulder.” 

“Castiel,” the judge said warningly. 

“I’m sure he won’t run,” Castiel said, his eyes falling on Dean, compelling him to feel the same way Castiel did. “I don’t think he’s as bad as you think, Bobby. I think he could do good.” 

Despite himself, Dean found he was nodding. It was something about Castiel’s eyes. He wasn’t just saying those words, he believed them. 

“Then I suppose you’ve changed my mind, Castiel,” the judge said thoughtfully. He pointed at Dean. “I’m sentencing you to a hundred and fifty hours of community service which will be conducted at the Novak farm. You’ll report in to Sheriff Mills every morning until your sentence is completed.” 

He banged his gavel down and all at once, the spell that had been cast over Dean when Castiel Novak looked at him was broken. 

“What?” Dean asked. He turned to Sam, panic in his voice. “Sam?” 

Sam stared back at him, his own eyes wide with surprise. 

“Dean,” he said, looking completely confused as if he couldn’t understand what had happened. 

“Come along,” Jody said, tapping Dean on the arm, making him turn away from Sam and look at her instead. “We need to get you over to the Novak farm. You can see where you’ll be staying for the next 150 working hours.” 

**

Dean stared out of the window of the police car, watching the world outside go by. It looked completely different to the word he’d seen by moonlight and Dean hadn’t really been paying attention the night before. He didn’t have anything to do but watch the world outside now. He didn’t like being driven about. It wasn’t what he was used to. He liked the feel of the steering wheel under his hands, liked the knowledge that the drive and the destination were up to him. 

He supposed he’d been lucky not to have the car taken away from him. The Impala was impounded until he’d finished his sentence but at least she wasn’t out of his hands for good. No one was going to crush her or cut up Dean’s drivers licence and make him keep her in the garage for a year or three till he’d finished his penance. 

His summer with Sam was cut short, over and done with. Dean expected Sam to take off soon. He could get himself across county and Dean didn’t begrudge him doing that. Why should Sam have to wait around? He hadn’t been the one who’d driven off the road. Besides, Sam had lost his case. He’d probably be even keener to get to New York and start working on real cases, putting this whole mess behind him. 

The drive through town didn’t take very long but by the end of it Dean felt like he was being driven through a Hallmark special, not a real town. He didn’t believe places like this existed, that people like this existed. They all seemed to have jumped, fully-formed, out of a TV show on Americana. None of it seemed real and Dean distrusted it immediately. It was all too nice, too quaint. He amused himself by imagining all the affairs, drug deals and secret crimes that took place under the veneer of respectability. He’d never hack it in the town, not for the length of his sentence, if they were really as good and wholesome as they appeared. 

The Novak’s farm was a little way outside of the town. They turned off the tarmacked road and onto a dirt track and Dean found his voice, leaning forward to make sure he was heard over the bumping of the car springs.

“How many days does this hundred and fifty hours amount to, anyway?” he asked. He’d been trying to work out how a hundred and fifty divided into twenty-four but he wouldn’t be working all day and all night. The sheriff would have a better idea of what Dean would be doing.

“If you work eight hours a day, then it should take you about nineteen days. If you finish your work at the Novak’s farm, I’ve got some potholes outside the sheriff’s office you can fill in.” 

Nineteen days would take a huge chunk out of Dean’s summer. He’d probably finish up and have to drive straight back to Stanford, especially if he wanted to keep his job. He’d saved up his holiday for this long summer with Sam and taken a number of unpaid days. If he didn’t get back in time, he probably wouldn’t have a job waiting for him. 

Dean had already guessed that was going to be the case, but the black and white number of days he’d actually have to work on the farm was a shock. Even if he put in ten hour days, he’d only reduce the time he was stuck on the farm to fifteen days. 

Dean licked his lips, wondering just what he had to look forward to on the farm. 

“So what do the Novak’s grow then?” he asked. “Are there animals on the farm?”

“I think Castiel’s got a cat and they’ve got a pretty toothless guard dog, I’m not surprised you didn’t see him last night. He spends most of his time under the beds,” Jody said, laughing. Dean could see her face reflected in the rear view mirror. When she smiled, her eyes crinkled up. It was very attractive on her. “We call it a farm but it’s an orchard really. They grow apples.” 

“And it’s just them?” Dean asked. It was hypocritical, considering how close he and Sam were, but Dean had already got an image in his mind of two brothers who lived out of town together, who’d always been a bit odd, a bit too involved in each other. He was already picturing a shared double bed. 

“Yes,” Jody said. “And I can tell what you’re thinking, it’s written all over your face. There’s nothing funny about Castiel and Gabriel. Gabriel’s hardly ever at the farm anyway. You can normally find him in town, in the bar. Castiel’s the one who puts the hard work in. He’ll be the one watching over you.” 

Dean sat back in his seat, trying his best not to feel guilty about being so obvious. It wasn’t as if the sheriff could blame him for his thoughts. It was a small town in the middle of nowhere and that kind of thing happened in small towns. 

“So, what’s Castiel like?”

“Quiet, hardworking, goes to church every Sunday and he’ll drag you along too if he gets half a chance. Everyone around here likes him.” 

Dean thought he sounded boring as Hell. Or Heaven maybe. All those qualities Jody had described sounded like they’d be right at home in Heaven. Dean could picture Castiel rather easily in a white robe with a harp. He might be attractive but he sounded dull. Dean didn’t think he’d enjoy the enforce time he had to spend with him. He already knew for certain that Castiel wasn’t getting him in to a church unless he counted it towards Dean’s hours of community service. 

“And Gabriel?” he prompted.

“The complete opposite. I don’t think Gabriel’s ever had a thought he hasn’t voiced. He likes to dance, likes to drink. He likes fast cars, fast women, fast men. If you didn’t know they were brothers then you’d never guess.” 

Gabriel sounded much more Dean’s speed. Maybe Dean would be able to have a bit of fun up at the farm with Gabriel. He might be able to get a drink out of him at least. He found himself hoping that Gabriel looked a little like Castiel. Someone with Gabriel’s personality in Castiel’s body would be a knock out. 

The track smoothed out as they drew up to an impressive looking white painted farm house with blue shutters and a blue front door. The barn was right alongside it, almost like an attachment. 

Castiel Novak was standing on the front porch, waiting for them. There was a fat little jack russle at his feet and Dean guessed this was the toothless guard dog Jody had mentioned. He didn’t look like he could do any damage. Maybe he could give someone a nasty nip but Dean fancied his bark was worse than his bite. 

Jody parked the car, getting out and opening Dean’s door for him. 

“I’ve got your prisoner here, Castiel!” she called. 

Castiel came down the steps, the dog following him. 

“Your brother’s already in the kitchen,” he said, bending to talk to Dean through the open car door. “He’s volunteered to help us out while you’re with us. I’ve already shown him his room. You better come in and I can show you were you’ll be sleeping.” 

“Sam’s here?” Dean repeated dumbly. He had no idea where Sam had gone after the sentencing. He’d been taken back to the jail and processed. He’d half expected to see Sam at the jail and when he didn’t he had wondered if Sam would turn up along the way to the Novak’s farm but he’d never expected Sam to stay, let alone to volunteer for the same work that Dean had had handed down to him as a punishment. 

He climbed out of the car, following Castiel into the house in a daze. The dog ran up to him, sniffed at his trouser leg then rushed on ahead of them, yapping loudly. 

“Shut up, Loki!” someone shouted. 

Castiel sighed softly, turning to look at Dean and Jody. “Jody, do you want some coffee? Gabriel’s got a pot on. I think I can handle Mr. Winchester, don’t worry about me.” 

Jody nodded, slipping past them and through the archway that the dog had already disappeared though. Dean stood in the hallway, looking at Castiel, wondering if the young man was really serious about that. He’d already seen that Castiel was at home with a gun. He supposed there could be some hidden strength in that wiry, thin frame but Dean was certain in a fair fight he could overpower Castiel. 

He took a step towards Castiel, the image in his mind’s eye an interesting one. He could imagine all too easily pinning Castiel against the wall, watching his blue eyes go wide and then darken as Castiel realized his true intent. In Dean’s imagination his intent wasn’t to escape. His intent was something else completely. 

Castiel stepped towards him too. The gap between them was suddenly a slim one that could easily be closed by either of them just moving a little, just edging a few centimetres closer. 

“Let’s go upstairs,” Castiel said.

Dean blinked, swallowing in surprise. He hadn’t expected Castiel to be that forward but he found he rather liked it. Apparently the sheriff was wrong in her estimation of Castiel. 

“Sure,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. 

Castiel turned, heading up the stairs in the corner and Dean fallowed him, letting his eyes stray to the curve of Castiel’s ass, enjoying the way it looked as he walked up the stairs. On the landing Castiel hesitated for a moment before opening the second door along. He stepped in and Dean followed him, frowning in surprise because the room had only a single bed in it. 

“I think this room for you,” Castiel said. “Your brother is just next door. He’s got your things; he brought them from the station with him.”

“Oh right,” Dean said, confused.

“The bathrooms just down the hall. It’s the door at the end. Don’t use all the hot water. Gabriel doesn’t get up until ten usually but if you have to shower after him then it will be cold. I’m sorry about that.” 

“Where’s your room?” Dean asked. 

Castiel looked at him uncertainly. “It’s the third door down.”

“Do the floorboards squeak?” 

“Badly,” Castiel said, nodding. “Be careful if you get up in the middle of the night, everyone will know.” 

Dean licked his lips, wondering if Castiel was trying to tell him something, speaking in riddles and code. Did he want Dean to come to his room in the middle of the night? Was he telling Dean to take care if he did because Gabriel and Sam would know if he got up and they’d know exactly how far down the hallway he’d gone if Dean didn’t tread softly? He couldn’t decide if that was what Castiel was saying or if he was just making small talk and being polite. It could all easily be just in Dean’s mind, all the double meanings he kept seeing could be completely innocent. 

Castiel started to turn away, ready to head back downstairs but Dean reached out, grabbing his wrist, holding him back. 

“Castiel?” he paused, not certain how to continue. 

“Yes?” Castiel asked him. He looked up at Dean without any trace of understanding. He looked perfectly innocent, waiting for Dean’s question and Dean swallowed, letting go of Castiel’s wrist. He’d just imagined the heat between them downstairs. Castiel didn’t feel it. That was obvious. He wasn’t flirting with Dean, he was just being friendly. 

“Nothing,” Dean said, shaking his head. “It’s nothing.”

They headed back down the stairs, Dean walking a little slowly now. He didn’t understand the pull Castiel had over him. He’d felt it in the courthouse when Castiel had looked at him. He’d fallen under his spell then and agreed to his own sentencing. Now he was alone with him for all of five minutes and he started imagining jumping into bed with him, started convincing himself that there was a spark between them. Castiel did something to him and Dean couldn’t explain how. 

They clattered down nosily in to the kitchen. Sam was sat at the kitchen table, a chipped mug in his hand. Jody was sat across from him, laughing at something someone had said. There was only one person in the kitchen Dean didn’t know and he was at the stove, sandy brown haired head bopping back and forth as he stirred something in a pot. He was wearing shorts and a t-shirt, an apron draped over the top of them and he was wearing flip-flops. He looked like he was getting ready for a day at the beach rather than a day of work at the farm. 

This, from the descriptions Dean had had of him, had to be Gabriel. 

The man turned to look at him and any hope Dean had had that he might look like Castiel were dashed. Their faces were completely different. Gabriel’s nose looked like it had been broken at some point and had set back a little crocked. His eyes were brown, Dean had already noted his sandy hair and his mouth was split in a wide, happy grin. 

“Is this the criminal?” he asked. 

“This is Dean,” Castiel said primly. “Dean, my brother, Gabriel.” 

Dean held out his hand for Gabriel to shake, the action instinctive rather than anything else. He was still unable to believe that he was looking at Castiel’s brother. They were so different from each other. Castiel was like the night, enigmatic and mysterious, pale, blue-black and beautiful. Gabriel just wasn’t. 

Gabriel shook his hand, laughing.

“I know! Everyone comments on it. Castiel and I are half-brothers. I take after our father, Castiel takes after his mother. They’re dead now.” 

“Uh, sorry to hear that,” Dean said, wondering if that was a Novak trait – throwing strange titbits into the conversation and bringing everything to a screeching halt. 

“Don’t be. It’s been years now.” 

“Gabriel,” Castiel said softly. He pulled out a chair, offering it to Dean. Dean shook his head, motioning for Castiel to sit down before him. He was starting to remember his manners now in the Novak’s house. Sam was shooting him odd looks but Dean ignored him, finally getting Castiel to sit down. He pulled out his own seat and settled down next to Castiel.

“Do you want something to drink, Dean? Something to eat?” Gabriel called.

“Gabriel made soup,” Castiel said. 

“What kind of soup?” Dean asked.

“Drunken onion,” Gabriel said happily. “It’s beer and onion soup and I’ve got some grilled cheese sandwiches to go with it.”

“They feed you well here, don’t they?” Dean said, unable to keep the smile from his face. 

“If you like fried foods and anything alcoholic,” Castiel said. 

“Dean loves fried food and alcohol,” Sam said, grinning. “You’ve just described his two basic food groups.”

“Castiel doesn’t like my cooking,” Gabriel said with a sigh. “The only time he gets excited is when I fire up the BBQ out back.”

“Gabriel makes very good burgers,” Castiel agreed, tapping his fingers on the table top.

“Really? I love a good burger,” Dean said, licking his lips at the thought of a homemade burger. He’d been right before when he’d thought the town was too good to be true. 

“Maybe I’ll dust off the old grill then,” Gabriel said, winking at him. After the confusion with Castiel upstairs, Dean was almost surprised to be flirted with so openly. It had been so obvious that he’d almost missed it. 

“You do remember that Dean’s here to do community service, don’t you, Gabriel?” Jody asked. “He’s not a house guest.”

“It doesn’t mean we can’t feed him right while he’s here. Besides, Castiel likes burgers.” 

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance of getting some vegetables, is there?” Sam said plaintively. 

Gabriel looked offended then laughed. “I’m sure I can make a salad. I might add blue cheese dressing and bacon bits so you’d better get it before I’m done if you want salad in its unadulterated state.”

Sam pulled a face at the description of Gabriel’s version of a salad but it sounded almost tolerable to Dean. In the back of his mind he knew that he was here to work and that he would be working hard but he thought he’d enjoy it while he was here. Gabriel was fun, just as Jody had said. He was also a shameless flirt. It seemed to come as naturally to him as breathing. 

Jody raised her mug to her mouth, draining the last of her coffee. She set it down and pushed her seat back. 

“I should be getting back,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Dean.”

“See you tomorrow, Sheriff,” Dean lounged back in his chair. 

The rest of the day stretched out with the glorious possibility of lunch, followed by settling in, then dinner which Dean was already sure would be delicious. He could flirt uproariously with Gabriel and more quietly with Castiel. Sam wasn’t going on to New York, he was staying with Dean. That was the biggest surprise. They’d have a new summer story, rebuilding the barn and the fence, in the company of two very attractive brothers. 

As Jody showed herself out, Gabriel turned back to the stove, ladling out steaming bowls of soup. He passed them round the table before opening the oven door, slipping on an oven mitt and pulling out a hot plate covered with deliciously crisp looking grilled cheese sandwiches. 

He set the plate down in the middle of the table. “Help yourselves.” 

Gabriel sat down then, pulling off his mitt and picked up a spoon instead. He reached for a sandwich and Dean did the same. For a long moment the table was silent save for the sound of people eating. 

Gabriel was a good cook. The soup was rich and warming, with a pleasant kick from the beer that just intensified the flavour of the onion. The grilled cheese sandwiches were the perfect warm, toasty accompaniment. Dean wondered if Gabriel always cooked like this or if he’d picked this meal to impress. If it was the later, then it had worked. Dean was very impressed. 

He scrapped the bowl clean, using the crusts from his grilled cheese to mop up the last drops of soup. 

Then Castiel cleared his throat. “I thought after lunch, that we could get started on the barn.”

Dean swallowed his mouthful, frowning. “Today?”

“We’ve still got the whole afternoon,” Castiel said. “When you’ve finished your community service then you can leave. Sam told me you’re driving him to New York for his new job. That’s a long drive. I wouldn’t want Sam to be late.” 

“If you didn’t want Sam to be late you could have just let us leave with the fine,” Dean said. 

Castiel sighed. “I wasn’t aware that you had an obligation at the time. All of this could have been avoided however, if you had been driving carefully.” 

“I took my eyes off the road for a second!” Dean said angrily. 

“You still took your eyes off the road,” Castel said, watching him carefully. 

Dean opened his mouth to defend himself but Sam interrupted before he could get any further. 

“Let’s go take a look at this barn,” he said. 

**

By the end of the day, Dean’s back as aching. He’s feet hurt, he was tired and feeling completely out of his depth. Dean thought he was good with his hands. He could fix a car easily. Once he got his hands on something mechanical or electrical, he could work out how to take it apart and put it back together with ease. He’d thought reinforcing a barn would be a piece of cake compared to fixing an engine but he hadn’t realized how much hard work it was going to be. 

All Dean wanted to do was crawl into bed. Gabriel had made another delicious meal, salad on the side as Sam requested, but Dean was too tied to take any interest in it. He ate a few bites then excused himself, heading upstairs to his bedroom. 

He opened the door, ready to flop down on to the bed and groaned as he saw someone else had already had that idea.

There was a large black and white cat stretched out on the bed. 

“Come on, up!” Dean said, clapping his hands together, trying to wake the cat up. 

The cat opened one yellow eye, glared at him and then rolled over away from him. 

Dean sighed, reaching down to grab the cat around its substantial middle and lift it up.

“Oh no, sweetheart, I’m not sharing with you. Go downstairs, there are some leftovers you can gobble up,” he said, certain that any cat as big as this one was could be tempted by the thought of leftovers. The cat dug its claws into the bedspread, dragging the bedspread with them as Dean tried to pull the cat off. 

“Come on, you stupid thing,” Dean hissed, gritting his teeth. 

The cat turned its head and sunk its teeth into Dean’s hand. 

Dean swore loudly and dropped the cat back onto the bed. It bounced twice, looking vengefully up at him and then stalked up the bed to curl up on the pillow. 

There was a noise from downstairs, the scrapping of a chair along the floor and then running feet and a second later Castiel appeared in the door way, out of breath. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

Dean nodded towards the bed, cradling his hand to his chest. Jody had made a point of mentioning that their dog was a pushover but she’d never mentioned the cat was vicious. 

Castiel stepped into the room, crouching at the bedside and held out his hand. 

“I’d be careful,” Dean said. “It just bit me.”

“She,” Castiel corrected him. The cat squinted happily at him and nudged her head against Castiel’s hand. “Her name is Bumblebee.” 

“Fine, she bit me then,” Dean said angrily. 

“Did you pick her up? She doesn’t like strangers picking her up,” Castiel said, rubbing his fingers under the cats chin, smiling as she purred. 

“I wanted to go to bed,” Dean said. He looked down at his hand, frowning. The bite wasn’t deep. There was no blood. The cat hadn’t even broken the skin. There were tiny indents in his skin and a lot of red around the marks but it would fade in a little while. It had been a warning bite, intended to scare Dean off with a short, sharp shock. 

Castiel carefully eased the cat up, cradling her in his arms. 

“I’m sorry; I forgot she likes to sleep in here sometimes. You should keep the door shut during the day if you don’t want her in here.” 

“Right, I’ll keep that in mind,” Dean said, sitting down on the bed, ready to crawl under the covers. He looked pointedly at Castiel. Castiel didn’t seem to notice, jiggling the cat in his arms, stroking his fingers up and down her back. 

“Uh, Cas,” he said. “I’d like to get in to bed now.” He paused, running his eyes up and down Castiel’s body, considering just how tired he was. “But you’re welcome to stay, if you want to watch me get undressed.” 

He didn’t know if he could do more than just kiss Castiel at the moment, he was so tired, but kissing would be nice. He could lie down with Castiel’s warm body pressed against him and kiss him till he fell asleep. 

Castiel’s cheek flushed bright red. 

“Oh, right. No, I don’t…I…Good night, Dean,” he said, unable to meet Dean’s eye. He turned and all but ran out the door, carrying the cat with him. Dean smiled, getting to his feet to shut the door. 

Castiel might not have said yes, but his no had been decidedly shaky. Dean had nineteen days, give or take. He wouldn’t even need that long to seduce Castiel. Castiel wanted him, Dean could tell. All he needed to do was keep showing Castiel he was interested and by the end of the week Castiel would have fallen into his arms. 

**

Dean woke up early. He’d expected to sleep until Castiel woke him up, but as it was, he opened his eyes to see the first rays of the sunlight filtering though the curtains. His aches and pains from the day before were still there, his muscles sore. Dean remembered what Castiel said about getting up early if he wanted any hot water, so he forced himself up, out of bed. 

The trip to the bathroom was accompanied by the squeaks and groans of the floorboards. Even when Dean tried to tread lightly, they were just as bad. He gave up eventually, deciding that it would be better to just get to the bathroom as quickly as possible, rather than prolong the whole experience.

He got to the end of the hallway, aware that he’d woken at least one person up if the muffled complaining he could hear was anything to go by, and opened the bathroom door. He bolted inside and locked the door. The bathroom was like something out of history. The bath was a big, enamel thing with claws and brass taps and shower head, with a curtain to pull round it. There was a white enamel sink and a toilet with a chain to pull. Someone had hung up picture frames filled with pressed wild flowers. The whole thing looked antique. 

Dean grumbled, getting into the tub and he pulled the curtain closed. He turned on the shower and waited. The pipes rumbled. Two bursts of water issued forth – one hot, one cold – hitting him squarely in the chest, making him yelp and then the water ran steadily at a warm, comfortable temperature. 

Dean stood under the shower spray, letting it wash away the knots and kinks that the previous day’s work had created. 

Outside the door he heard more creeks and groans from the floorboards but the sound of running water dimmed them slightly. Finally, Dean shut off the water. He felt better. He was certain that by the end of the day he’d feel bad again, but for now he was ready to face the day. 

He grabbed a towel, drying himself off and dressed again. He slipped out of the door. He went straight downstairs, hoping to be in time to see what Gabriel was making for breakfast and maybe make a few suggestions. After skipping most of dinner the night before, Dean was starving. 

Sniffing the air he could already smell freshly brewed coffee. He hoped he could convince Gabriel to get some bacon and sausages going. He paused just in front of the kitchen door, aware of someone laughing. It was a nice sound – musical and filled with unreserved joy. It was the laugh of someone who couldn’t stop. 

Dean pushed open the kitchen door, not at all surprised to see Castiel pressed up against the stove, Gabriel tickling him as Castiel gasped for breath and laughed uncontrollably. Gabriel’s hands ran up and down Castiel’s side, hiking his shirt up to get to the more sensitive bare skin. 

“Gabriel, stop it!” Castiel wheezed, trying to push his brother away, his face bright red but Gabriel’s fingers didn’t stop moving. 

“Ah! You’re the cutest little brother, Castiel, I’m not going to stop, no, I’m not,” Gabriel said, sounding more like he was talking to a dog then to his brother. 

Dean almost felt awkward standing there watching them, but he’d had any number of fantasies about hot twins. Castiel and Gabriel weren’t twins, they were completely the opposite in fact, but they managed to fill the hot requirement in his fantasies. All it needed now was for one or both of them to be in a wet t-shirt and Dean was in Heaven. 

He stood there, staring at the two of them, not even bothering to hide how much it turned him on. There was the dirty-wrong factor but it was more than that. Castiel looked so free and happy, doubling up with laughter and so stunning that Dean couldn’t keep his eyes off him. 

“Gabriel!” Castiel gasped, shoving Gabriel away with more determination. For the first time, he seemed to realize that someone else was in the room with them. He blushed, giving Gabriel another shove. “Honestly, Gabriel, you’re hopelessly immature.”

Gabriel turned, smiling lazily at Dean. 

“I don’t think Dean minds me,” he said. “In fact, I think he’d like to take over the tickling duties while I cook breakfast.” 

“Gabriel,” Castiel hissed, glaring at his brother. 

“I wouldn’t mind,” Dean said, wiggling his fingers out in front of him. “It might be fun to make you squeal, Castiel.”

Castiel did not look impressed. 

“Did you use up all the hot water?” he asked, pointedly ignoring Dean’s offer to tickle him some more. 

Dean opened his mouth to reply, but Castiel pushed past him, not waiting for his answer. A few seconds later there were loud, angry sounding footsteps on the stairs as Castiel stomped up them. 

“He likes you,” Gabriel said, grinning.

“Really?” Dean asked. “Because I don’t believe you. I think he hates me.” 

“For Castiel, that was flirting.” 

**

Dean wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

If Castiel had been flirting with him before, he was obviously punishing Dean for it now. He’d had Sam and Dean working since finishing breakfast, putting up support joists and hammering new planks of wood in to place to cover the hole Dean had made when he’d ploughed the car head long through the barn’s side. Castiel had taken on the role of foreman, directing them but standing back from them, making a clear distinction between them in Dean’s eyes. 

Castiel was as good as saying that he was the boss and Dean had better step off. 

Dean had no intention of stopping his flirting though. Every chance he got, he shot Castiel a vivacious smile. Castiel huffed and turned away, but a few seconds later Dean would catch him glancing at him. It was becoming something of a routine – carry a plank over to Sam, smile at Cas, get ignored, help Sam by holding the nails, catch Castiel staring. Dean was just thinking of shaking things up a little by whistling to Castiel the next time he walked past him when he spotted a car heading up the dusty, dirt track that passed for a driveway. 

It was a beaten up old truck and it was kicking up dust behind it. 

“You got a visitor,” he called to Castiel who turned, holding his hand up to shield his eyes from the sun. 

“Becky,” he muttered. “What is she doing here?” 

Dean got the feeling that Castiel was asking fate. He was suddenly a lot more interested in whoever was in the car. He wanted to meet the woman who could make Castiel sound so worried. 

“She an old girlfriend? Finance?” he asked. 

Castiel glared at him. “No.”

The truck slowed down, pulling to a stop and the door popped open. A young woman jumped out. She was kind of cute with dirty blond hair and a wide smile. Dean thought she fitted in with the surroundings. She could have grown up with the corn. 

“Hey, Cas!” she called, reaching back into the truck. “I heard you had visitors so I thought I’d come over and introduce myself. I brought some pie.” 

“I like her,” Dean said. 

Castiel shook his head. “She’s only come here to gawk at you and Sam.” 

“And she brought pie. I think that shows manners,” Dean said, grinning. 

He headed towards Becky, holding out his hand for her to shake. He got a good look at the pie she was carrying. It looked delicious and Dean couldn’t wait to try a piece. He figured a little charm wouldn’t go amiss. 

“I’m Dean Winchester. Don’t worry, only half of what you’ve heard about me is true,” he said, winking at her. 

Becky wrinkled up her nose, frowning. 

“I thought you’d be taller,” she said. 

Dean spluttered, at a loss for words. Behind him, he heard Sam laughing. Becky side-stepped Dean elegantly and carried on, heading towards Sam. Dean tuned to look at her, still unable to work out what he’d done wrong. 

“But I am tall,” he said. 

Castiel snorted, biting his lip. Dean glared at him. 

“I’m taller than you!” 

Becky cleared her throat, interrupting them then. She was standing in front of Sam, the pie held out in front of her, her eyes wide as she took in all of Sam. 

“Who are you?” she asked. “I thought there was only one convict here.”

“I’m Sam and I volunteered. I’m Dean’s brother,” Sam said, getting up from where he’d been kneeling, hammering home nails, and wiped his hands on his jeans. “And you’re Becky, right? Castiel said that was your name.” 

“Becky Rosen. I bought you a pie.” She shoved it forward into Sam’s hands. 

Sam looked down at it bemusedly. 

“Thank you,” he said. “Dean really likes pie. I know he’ll want a slice of this.”

Becky frowned. “What about you? Don’t you want a slice?” 

Sam looked at Castiel, appealing for some help. “I don’t know if we’re going to have a lunch break any time soon.” 

“I think we can take a break,” Castiel said quickly. 

Becky made a happy, high pitched sound and linked her arm through Sam’s, pulling him towards the farm house. “Come on. Do you think Gabriel has whipped cream? I bet he has whipped cream.”

Sam looked startled and confused, too polite to complain about the strange woman dragging him off for pie. 

Dean watched them head into the farm house, shaking his head. 

“I can’t believe she liked Sam more than me,” he said. 

“You just want everyone, don’t you?” Castiel said, frowning.

“What’s wrong with that?” Dean asked. “I like keeping my options open.” 

“I just imagine it might make someone doubt your intentions,” Castiel said quietly. “How could they ever be sure of what you wanted? They might start to think you were simply playing with them.” 

Dean turned to look at him but Castiel was already striding off, heading away from the house and prospect of pie for lunch. Dean stood there, torn for a moment because the pie really had looked very good, but Dean wasn’t completely oblivious. He knew what Castiel had been talking about. It would have been difficult to miss. Castiel didn’t know what Dean wanted from him. Dean could help to clear that up for him. He ran after Castiel, putting on an extra burst of speed to catch him up. 

“Where are we going?” he asked, reaching Castiel’s side. 

Castiel looked at him, his eyes widening but he recovered himself quickly. “I was heading down to the creek at the end of the orchard. Do you want to come?”

“You don’t want any lunch?” Dean asked. 

“I’m too hot to eat,” Castiel said. “I thought I might go for a swim before lunch.” 

Dean glanced at Castiel, looking him up and down. 

“You got swimming trucks under there?” 

“I haven’t got anything you haven’t seen before, Dean,” Castiel said.

Dean stopped still, staring after Castiel. He hadn’t expected Castiel to say that. For a second, Dean didn’t believe what he’d heard. Castiel – prim, sweet, church mouse Castiel – was inviting him to go skinny dipping. Dean was glad he’d picked following Castiel over pie. He hadn’t known what he was expecting when he followed Castiel, but this was better than anything he’d half-imagined. 

“Changed your mind?” Castiel called back over his shoulder. 

Dean set off in a run after him. 

“No,” he said, panting as he reached Castiel’s side. 

Castiel smiled at him, a soft smile that made Dean’s heart ache in his chest. They walked together in silence, crossing the expanse of Castiel’s apple orchard until they reached the creek at the bottom of it. Dean didn’t know what he’d been expecting but it had been something smaller than what greeted his eyes. 

When Castiel had said creek, he’d thought they’d be dabbling in something knee high but this creek let out into a proper pond. It was just the right place for skinny dipping. There were reeds growing high at the edge of the pond, a big tree on the other side away from them. It wasn’t one of Castiel’s carefully cultivated apple trees. It had been there longer than the apple trees. It was old and gnarled, twisted branches stretching to the sky and there was something imposingly beautiful about it. 

No one else was likely to see them down here in this secluded spot, it was off the beaten track and isolated, but in a very few minutes they’d be able to see every inch of each other. Castiel pulled off his shirt, dropping it next to him. Dean did the same, sneaking looks at Castiel as he undressed. Castiel was everything he’d promised to be. He was beautiful, flawless. He was as pale as a star and just as unreal up close. Dean wanted to reach out to touch him but he kept his hands to himself. 

In the blink of an eye, Castiel was naked. He streaked away from Dean, heading straight in to the pond. Dean laughed, shoving his pants down his hips, followed by his boxers. He stood there for a moment, hands on his hips, waiting for Castiel to turn back and get a good look at him. 

Castiel swam out to the middle of the pond and finally turned, treading water. He looked Dean up and down, licking his lips. 

“Nice,” he shouted. “Are you coming in? Or are you just planning to stand there and tan?” 

“I’m coming in,” Dean said, grinning. He’d seen the look on Castiel’s face and he knew when someone was in to him. Castiel had certainly liked what he’d seen. 

Dean strode towards the water’s edge. He knew how to swim but he hadn’t been swimming in years. He stepped in to the water, shivering because it was colder than he’d thought it would be. He could see why Castiel would want to go swimming in this heat though. Dean was sweaty and hot from all the hard work he’d been doing. The thought of the cool water washing some of that off him sounded like a good idea. Then Dean was hoping they could lie out naked in the sun together to dry off. 

He waded a little deeper, up to his knees. 

Castiel was already swimming lengths, gliding effortlessly through the water. Dean headed in a little deeper, up to his waist and watched Castiel, completely enchanted. He looked at home in the water. He was like a little fish, all silvery and quick, darting up and down the length of the pond. 

“Do you swim here often?” Dean asked. 

“Yes, when it gets hot out. We used to all come and swim down here, my whole family,” Castiel said.

“Is this the part where you tell me the rest of them drowned here in a terrible accident?” Dean called back, unable to shake the feeling that that would be where the conversation ended up.

Castiel stopped swimming, standing up. 

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “My parents died because they were old. They didn’t suffer, both of them slipped away peacefully when they were ready. My sister Anna lives in New York, she works in design and Gabriel and I are here and very much alive.”

“Oh,” Dean said, frowning. He felt as if should tell Castiel something about himself; fill in some of the blanks in his life history. “My mum died when I was four. There was a house fire. My dad didn’t cope too well. Sam and I sort of brought ourselves up.” 

Castiel frowned. “That’s awful. Is you dad dead too?” 

Dean shrugged. “He could be. He doesn’t keep in touch. Sometimes he calls, but it can be months at a time.” 

Castiel swam towards Dean. He stood up in the shallower water, stepping close to Dean and put a hand on his arm, stroking gently. The touch was unexpected. Dean wasn’t used to receiving sympathy. He didn’t like telling people about his childhood. He didn’t want them to pity him but with Castiel it felt different. He didn’t see pity in Castiel’s eyes. He just saw understanding. 

That scared him more than the thought of pity. 

He shoved Castiel in the shoulder, grinning at him. 

“I thought we came here to go swimming!” he said, flopping down on to his back, gasping as the cold water enveloped him, closing over his head. For a moment he struggled, kicking out, and then he was blinking in the sunlight on the other side of the pool, droplets of water rolling down over his face. “I’ll race you, Cas.” 

For a moment Castiel didn’t move but then he dived straight in to the water, graceful and fast. Dean tried to match his speed but he knew it was a lost cause. He splashed around, making a lot of noise but not getting very far. 

“Fine! You win,” he said, turning to float on his back. 

A second later, a splash of water hit him in the face. Dean gasped, rolling over. He wiped the water from his eyes and laughed. Castiel was standing there, trying to look innocent but Dean knew he’d splashed him on purpose. He hadn’t been expecting Castiel to start a splash fight but that was much more his speed then racing laps. 

“I’m going to get you, Cas. You shouldn’t have done that!” he said gleefully, lunging at the other man. 

Castiel darted away, slipping back into the cover of the water. Dean looked around, knowing he was going to pop up at any moment but he still wasn’t ready for it when Castiel bounced out of the water at his side and soaked him with another great big splash. He grabbed hold of Castiel, laughing. He was dripping wet. Castiel was smiling at him, the sunlight illuminating him from behind and Dean didn’t think he’d ever seen anything more breath-taking. He stopped laughing, looking at Castiel in awe. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his grip on Castiel relaxing. Castiel’s skin was so warm to the touch. Dean wanted to keep touching him, stroking him. His eyes were drawn to Castiel’s lips. There were a few drops of water on them. Dean wanted to kiss them off. 

Castiel looked up at him, breathing deeply. He tipped his head up ever-so slightly, his eyes slipping closed. 

Dean leant closer, his heart pounding because in second he would have closed the gap between them and he’d be kissing Castiel for the first time. 

Someone whistled. 

Castiel jerked out of his hold, his eyes blow wide. He was looking over Dean shoulder, scrabbling to cover himself, his hands crossed over his chest. 

Dean turned, already privately cursing whoever had interrupted them. 

Sheriff Jody Mills was standing at the edge of the pond, one eyebrow raised. 

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you but you hadn’t checked in with me and it is a mandated part of your sentence. I thought you might have done a runner.” Jody pushed her hat out of her eyes, smiling. “But I see you were just distracted.” 

“Jody, could you please close your eyes?” Castiel asked. 

“I’ll even turn around,” she said, moving so she was facing away from the two men in the pond. 

Dean glanced over his shoulder. Castiel was already making for the side of the pond, splashing around as he got in to the shallows. He got on to dry land and grabbed his clothes, pulling on his boxers and pants then took off, running across the orchard and back towards the farm house. 

Dean sighed. He’d been so close before Jody arrived. 

“You can turn back now, Cas is gone,” he said. 

“Don’t you want to put your clothes on too?” Jody asked, glancing over her shoulder.

“I’m not shy and it’s not like you can see much when most of me is underwater,” Dean said with a shrug.

“I suppose I can say now that I’m certain you’re still here,” Jody said, taking a good long look at Dean. “I’ve seen you in the flesh, so to speak.” 

Dean laughed. “I will remember to check in tomorrow. If I don’t, I think Castiel will remind me. I don’t think he was expecting anyone to catch us.” He paused for a moment, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “What made you think to come and look for us out here? Castiel bring people out swimming often?”

Jody snorted. “No. Gabriel pointed me this way. He said Castiel might be down here.” 

“Good,” Dean said. He knew his jealousy was transparent. Jody had caught him with his arms around Castiel, about to kiss him. She was the sheriff. She could probably work out what he’d been worrying about. Dean didn’t want to be just another in a parade of men Castiel had invited to swim naked with him. 

Jody scratched at the side of her nose with a finger. “Don’t worry, Mr Winchester. You’ve got far more fatal charm than anyone around here.” She whistled low, turning her head to look in the direction Castiel had run. “I don’t know what you’ve got, but they should bottle it. If you’d told me you’d be down here, skinny dipping with Castiel Novak, I would never have believed you.” 

“That makes two of us,” Dean said, he began to wade towards the edge of the pond. “You can keep looking if you want, I don’t mind.” 

“I’m fine, but thanks for the offer,” Jody said. She stood with her back to Dean as he pulled on his boxers. He held his jeans out in front of him. He didn’t want to put them on while he was still damp. He dropped them back down and pulled on his t-shirt instead. 

“I’m as dressed as I’m going to get!” he called.

Jody turned back to him, frowning. “No towels then?”

Dean picked up his jeans, slinging them over his shoulder. He picked up his shoes too, holding them in one hand. “This wasn’t a planned trip. It happened on the spur of the moment. You’re lucky you turned up when you did, otherwise you’d have seen some naked sunbathing. Is that illegal?” 

“It’s Castiel’s property,” Jody said. She jogged down to Dean. “What are you planning to do when you finish your community service?” 

The question took Dean by surprise. 

“Are you looking to run me out of town already?” 

Jody shook her head. “No, I just wondered what you had lined up.”

They were walking back to the house but taking it slowly. Dean was already starting to dry off, the hot midday sun beating down on them. The orchard provided a bit of shade but not too much, the trees spaced out to give them room to grow and thrive. 

“I’m taking Sam to the job he’s got lined up in New York, then I’m heading back to Stanford. I’m a mechanic by trade,” Dean said. 

Jody nodded. “You know, we could use a new mechanic. Bobby does his best but he’s getting on. I’m sure he’d welcome a new pair of hands.”

“I think he’d bite my hands off if I tried to help him” Dean said. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Jody said, smiling. “He’s a bit of a bear but he’s not so bad when you get to know him.” 

Dean shook his head, chuckling softly to himself. 

“I don’t know if you remember, but I smashed my car through a barn. I did a lot of criminal damage according to the court. I wouldn’t expect the Sheriff to invite a criminal like me to stay.” 

“I don’t think you’re a bad sort, Dean,” Jody said quietly. She paused, reaching out to touch the trunk of one of the trees. “At least I hope you’re not. Our town is sleepy and quiet, but it’s got a lot to recommend it.”

“Like what?” Dean asked. 

“Well, Castiel for a start,” Jody said, smiling knowingly at him. “You could settle down here, Dean. Start afresh, grow new roots.” 

Dean felt suddenly uncomfortable. He hadn’t been thinking about what would happen when his community service was up. He’d assumed he’d drive out of the town and occasionally think fondly about that summer he was arrested. Castiel was a distraction. Dean hadn’t even begun to figure him in. 

Jody stared at him, her smile fading. 

“Let me give you some advice,” she said. “If you’re thinking that you can just have a fling with Castiel, stop thinking that now. Castiel isn’t like that. If you hurt him, I will run you out of town.”

“Have you got a problem with two people having fun?” Dean asked, the conversation having taken a decidedly sour note. 

“I have a problem with it when one of them would want more than the other could give,” Jody said. “If this was Gabriel, you and I wouldn’t be having this conversation. I know Gabriel can take care of himself. Castiel can’t. He’s never had time for romance, not since he took over running the farm. He was a teenager when his parents died, did he tell you that? Gabriel was going to sell this place, their sister was already off studying design in New York, but Castiel convinced him to keep it and he’s worked hard. I wouldn’t want to see all that destroyed because the wrong person got past his defences.” 

Dean swallowed. He felt the weight of a responsibility on his shoulders that he hadn’t expected or wanted. He’d just been flirting with Castiel because Castiel was beautiful and sarcastic and innocent. He’d thought it would be fun, an enjoyable way for the two of them to pass the time. Now, he found out that people were rooting for him stay in the town and make some sort of pledge to Castiel and the farm. That hadn’t been what Dean signed up for and the thought of all that responsibility made him want to run in the opposite direction. 

Dean had been responsible. He’d looked after Sam; he’d helped him through college. He’d supported the two of them for years. He was supposed to be learning to live on his own now, he was supposed to spend time on himself once this summer was over. He didn’t want to entangle himself with someone else. It had hurt too much when Sam had decided to leave. Everything Dean had done for him and Sam had still taken a job on the other side of the country. 

If things went wrong between Castiel and him, if Dean had to leave, that he didn’t think he’d be able to cope with it.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. 

He and Jody walked the rest of the way to the farm house in silence. Dean could see Jody’s car parked up in front and he could also see Castiel on the porch, waiting for them. He smiled and then stopped himself, remembering everything he and Jody had just discussed in the orchard. Dean was going to swear off Castiel from now on. He was just going to do his penance and get the Hell out of town without anything to regret.

His resolve lasted right until he climbed the steps to the porch and Castiel smiled shyly at him. 

“I’m sorry we were interrupted,” he said in a low whisper. 

Dean felt his mouth go dry. What did Jody know about what Castiel needed? Maybe what Castiel needed was a fling to bring him out of his shell? Maybe he wanted someone who’d flirt with him and show him a good time? Everyone else seemed to treat him like he was some fragile little bird that hadn’t learned to fly yet. Castiel was probably praying for someone who’d come and treat him like the grown up he was. He was old enough to make his own choices and if he wanted Dean, then Dean wasn’t going to stop him. 

Nobody else should be making Castiel’s choices for him, no matter how well intentioned they were. 

“It’s okay,” he said, brushing his hand against Castiel’s, their fingers entwining briefly before Dean moved back. “Another time?”

Castiel nodded eagerly. 

He turned away from Dean, looking at Jody who was leaning against her car, watching the two of them. 

“Do you want to come in?” Castiel called to her. “Becky brought pie over.”

“Sounds good but I need to get back,” Jody said. She tipped her hat to Castiel and Dean in turn, then got in to her car. She drove away down the dusty beaten track. Dean watched her go, wondering what she thought about him now. 

Did she still think he was a decent guy underneath it all or did she think he was a scoundrel now? Dean wondered why Jody’s opinion mattered to him so much. It was partly her fault he was here at the farm at all, partly her fault that he’d met Castiel. If she’d just been happy to let the Judge make his decision and let Dean get on his way, then Dean wouldn’t have ever had the chance to be the fox in the hen house. 

Castiel nudged him, drawing Dean’s attention back to the here and now. 

“Are you ready for lunch?” he asked. 

Dean nodded. He felt like he was starving now. When they’d been swimming together in the pond, he hadn’t been hungry at all. He’d been completely focused on Castiel. Now, Dean found himself looking forward to some sweet potato pie. He could flirt with Castiel again after lunch. 

** 

One week later – Thirteen days of community service left: 

The whole house smelled of apple pie. Gabriel had been baking for the last two days, fussing about getting the crust just right. He’d made about thirty pies. Some of them had cinnamon crusts; some of them had cheddar crusts. Some of them were plain, some latticed. All of them looked delicious but Dean had been forbidden from touching them. All of the pies, every last slice of them, were ear marked for the town summer fair. 

“I always make the pies for the refreshment tent,” Gabriel said, rolling out pastry on the kitchen table, pausing to smack Dean’s questing hand away. Dean snatched his hand back, shaking it. He’d only want a little bit to taste. “If your brother thinks Becky’s pie was good, wait till he tastes mine.”

“Your pie making skills are lost on Sam. Give me a slice!” Dean pleaded. It was like torture. He was surrounded by his very favourite food and not allowed a bite. “It’s not right, you’re going off to the fair and I have to stay here.”

“What makes you think you’re staying here?” Gabriel asked, frowning. 

“My community service. The fact that I’m supposed to be finishing off painting the barn today,” Dean said, wondering if Gabriel had had his coffee yet this morning. Dean knew it was early, they were up before 6am, but he was getting used to the early mornings. He was also sleeping better than he’d ever done in his life before. 

“Well you’re having a day off,” Gabriel said, frowning. “I need you to help me. Castiel already knows I can’t do this by myself. Besides, the fair is lots of fun! You and Sam deserve a bit of time off to enjoy yourselves.” 

“And Cas is okay with this?” Dean asked, brightening. He loved fairs. He loved the food, he loved the games, and he loved the rides. He didn’t know if this fair was the sort of one that had rides – maybe pony rides and Dean a bit too old for that – but he was still excited. 

“Castiel wants you to come,” Gabriel said, grinning. 

“Where is Cas, anyway?” Dean asked. He’d been expecting to see Castiel. He didn’t think Castiel was still asleep.

“Out walking the dog, checking that no one’s been stealing the apples,” Gabriel said. 

“He’ll be carrying the dog by the time they finish then,” Dean said, grinning. 

He got up, his chair scrapping back on the floor. If he stayed in the kitchen any longer, he’d have to steal a slice of pie and he got the feeling Gabriel would beat him with his mixing spoon if he did that. The only way he was likely to get a slice of pie was if he bought it himself as a paying customer. He’d already decided that would be the first thing he’d do when he got to the fair. 

“I’ll go wake Sam up!” Dean said enthusiastically. “We don’t want to be late.” 

He made it all the way to the doorway before a thought struck him. He paused, turning to look back at Gabriel who was cutting away the excess pastry from around the pie dish. 

“There won’t be any clowns, will there?” he asked. 

“Clowns?” Gabriel pulled a face then shook his head. “No, it’s not that sort of fair. There might be some people dressed as giant vegetables but that’s it.”

“Oh good. Sam hates clowns,” Dean said. 

He dashed up the stairs, skipping over a step where Bumblebee was lying, waiting to trip up the unwary. She swiped at his foot, her tail sweeping angrily from side to side. 

“If you lie there you’ll end up tripping up Cas and then you’ll be sorry. He’s the only one of us who likes you,” Dean told her sweetly. She tried to claw him again so Dean stopped trying to reason with her and headed on up to Sam’s room. 

He pushed the door open gently, peering in. Sam was still fast asleep, the covers pulled up over his head. Dean was careful to keep his tread light as he entered the room. He sat down on the edge of Sam’s bed and grabbed hold of his shoulder, giving him a good shake. 

“Wake up! I’ve got news,” he said, grinning. 

Sam rolled over, blinking up at him blearily. “What time is it?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Early,” Dean said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Get up, we’re going to a fair today.” 

“A what?” Sam asked. He groaned, throwing his arm across his eyes. “This is a dream, isn’t it? You haven’t just woken me up like a bouncy five year old because there’s a fair, have you?” 

“Shut up,” Dean said, shoving Sam in the shoulder. “Fairs are awesome and you don’t know how to have fun.” 

Sam sighed, shifting around till he was sitting up. He looked at Dean, frowning at him. 

“You’re being serious?”

“Completely,” Dean said, grinning. 

Sam sighed again. 

“When are you going to get your work done then?” he asked. 

“I’m having a day off,” Dean said happily. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? If we don’t work today, that’s another day we have to stay here. It’s another day you’re not finishing your community service.” 

Dean shrugged. The thought had crossed his mind, but it had quickly been replaced by thoughts of apple pie, ring toss games and the possibility of a whole day spent with Castiel away from the farm. It would be almost like a date, apart from the time spent helping Gabriel. 

“What’s so bad about staying here?” he asked. He thought Sam liked the place. He’d never complained and he seemed to enjoy the work. 

“Nothing. I just didn’t think you’d want to,” Sam said. 

Dean smiled. “Oh, I want to.” 

Sam reached back, grabbing his pillow and he hit Dean with it. 

“Is this about Cas? You’re so gross!” he said. 

Dean grabbed the pillow from his brother’s hands and hit him back. 

“Yes, I’m looking forward to going out and spending the day with Cas. Something wrong with that?” he asked. 

“No,” Sam said, struggling with Dean to get the pillow back from him. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” He held the pillow tightly to him. For a moment Dean was reminded of when Sam had been younger. He knew Sam wanted to ask him a question. He was pulling the same face he’d always pulled when he wanted to know something but wasn’t sure how Dean would take to being asked. 

“What’s up?” he said, nudging Sam. “Come on, Sam. You’re an adult now; you’re going to be in New York at the end of the summer. You can ask me anything.” 

“How serious are you and Cas?” Sam asked. 

“Not you too,” Dean said, frowning. He shook his head, trying to dismiss any worries Sam had. “Look, we’re having fun. Castiel hasn’t asked me anything and I haven’t promised him anything. It’s just fun.” 

Everything Dean and Castiel had been doing was completely innocent. They hadn’t even kissed. They hadn’t come close since the time in the pool. They’d held hands a few times, brushed against each other passing on the stairs, sat their chairs closer to each other at dinner but that was the extent of what they’d done. 

It didn’t mean that something more wasn’t going to happen or that Dean didn’t want it to happen. It was just that Dean was happy letting things go at their own pace. He was happy flirting lazily with Castiel and enjoying Castiel’s shy attempts at flirting back. 

Sam exhaled, smiling at him. 

“Good!” he said. 

Dean smiled at him, patting him on the shoulder, glad that that seemed to settle whatever worries Sam had. He stood up, wanting to get back downstairs, ready to catch Castiel on his walk back to the house.

“Come on, get up! Even Gabriel’s up already,” he said teasingly. 

“No, he isn’t. You’re lying,” Sam said. “Gabriel never gets up early if he can help it.”

“Maybe he hasn’t been to bed? I don’t know, but he’s downstairs baking,” Dean said, grinning. “Oh and watch out on the stairs. The cat’s trying to kill people again.” 

**

The fair was just the sort of thing Dean had imagined when he’d planned his and Sam’s road trip. It was off the beaten track, filled with people laughing and eating and having a good time. This wasn’t the sort of enjoyment that could be forced. Castiel and Sam had been roped into helping set up another stall on the other side of the fair, so it was just Dean and Gabriel in the refreshments tent. 

Dean had bought himself three slices of Gabriel’s pie after he’d helped Gabriel set up in the refreshments tent and sat down at one of the little picnic tables arranged around the tent. Each slice was better than the last and Dean was on the point of going back for a fourth slice when Castiel came to find him. 

“I was wondering what was taking you so long to set up,” he said, looking at Dean as Dean shovelled the final crumbs in to his mouth. “I thought Gabriel had roped you in to helping him serve up.”

“No,” Dean said, licking his lips. “I was just your brother’s first customer.”

“I thought I’d steal you away before you’re my brother’s only customer,” Castiel said, smiling at him. He held out his hand, offering it to Dean. “Everything’s set up now if you want to look around with me.”

Dean stood up, grinning. He took hold of Castiel’s hand, lacing their fingers together. He had the feeling the whole town was going to turn up over the day. They were going to see him and Castiel together, walking together like this, hand in hand. Dean found himself excited about the prospect. He wanted people to see him with Castiel.

“Come on, I want to win you a stuffed toy,” he said. 

Castiel smiled at him. Together, they stepped out of the tent and in to the bright sunlight. 

The first game they came across was a shooting game. Dean paid a dollar down and got three shots. The aim of the game was to hit the bullseye on a target at the back of the shooting booth. 

“Do you know how to shoot?” Castiel asked him, leaning against the booth as Dean was handed his gun. It was a hunting rifle and Dean had used a hand gun the last time he went shooting but he didn’t think it would be too different. 

“Yes, of course I can,” he said. 

He levelled the gun and pulled the trigger. The gun jerked back in to his shoulder as it went off and the shot went wild. 

“That wasn’t even close,” Castiel said. 

“I’ve still got two more shots,” Dean said, lifting the gun again. “I haven’t used a rifle before, that’s all.” 

His next two shots were more conservative. They hit the target but neither of them where close to the bullseye. 

Dean set the gun down, frowning. 

“Okay, so maybe I can’t shoot,” he said moodily. He’d planned to show off to Castiel, to impress him but Castiel probably thought less of him now that he’d see Dean’s bad shooting. Dean was also probably going to have a bruise on his shoulder from where the butt of the gun had hit him. Sam would say that was pride coming before a fall and that Dean deserved it for showing off. 

Castiel dug in his pocket, pulling out a dollar. 

“Let me show you how to shoot,” he said, picking up the gun. 

He pulled the trigger, shooting the three shots he’d paid for in quick succession. Each one hit straight in the bullseye. 

He turned to Dean, grinning. 

“Now you can pick a toy,” Castiel said. 

Dean stared at him. He knew Castiel was supposed to be a good shot, but Dean hadn’t expected him to be that good. 

“I’m glad I never tried to run away,” he murmured, stepping closer to Castiel and lowering his voice. 

“I would have tried to shoot you in the shoulder,” Castiel whispered back. “Pick your toy. You can win me something else later.” 

Dean scanned the lines of soft, cuddly toys tacked up around the edges of the booth and eventually picked a stuffed toy alligator. He tucked it under his arm after it was handed to him. 

“He’s great, Cas. I’ll treasure him until that stupid dog of Gabriel’s steals him.” 

Castiel grabbed hold of his hand again, tugging Dean along behind him.

“Maybe we can find you a pie eating contest? I think you could win that,” he said.

“You know, I was told you were quiet and reserved, but I think that was just a lie. You’re a sarcastic brat really,” Dean complained but he was happy. He did feel slightly unmanned, carrying around the stuffed toy Castiel had won for him, but the day was still young and there were lots of other games. Dean could distinguish himself somewhere else. 

They strolled on through the fair. Dean found a stand selling corn dogs, Castiel bought a quilt embroidered with little bumblebees in the craft tent. Dean only teased him gently about his bee obsession. 

“I’d like to keep bees,” Castiel said wistfully, folding up the quilt. “They’d help to pollinate the apple trees.”

“Why don’t you, then?” Dean asked, finishing the last bite of his corn dog regretfully.

“Gabriel thinks he might be allergic. I think he’s only saying that because he doesn’t like bees.” Castiel wrinkled his nose, pulling a face. 

“Keep them down the far end of the orchard then, away from Gabriel. Besides, when you’re making your own honey, I bet Gabriel will change his tune,” Dean said, nudging him conspiratorially. “I bet we can find you someone here who’d be willing to sell you some bees and a hive.”

“Maybe,” Castiel said but the way he said it lacked conviction.

“What’s wrong? I though you wanted to keep bees,” Deans said. 

“I’m just thinking that Gabriel wouldn’t go near them, so if I got sick, the bees would be on their own,” Castiel said softly. He was staring off into the distance, apparently lost in a future where Castiel was too sick to leave his bed and the bees withered and died without his care. 

Dean found himself smiling. Castiel was the only person he’d knew who’d worry about the fate of bees. Dean had always just assumed bees got on with things and looked after themselves, but maybe they needed a bit more input than he’d realized. 

“I’m not scared of bees,” Dean found himself saying. “If you get sick, I’ll go down and look after them for you.” 

Castiel beamed at him happily. Dean wasn’t surprised that their next stop turned out to be a stall manned by the local bee keeper. By the end of their conversation, Castiel had arranged to have a hive of bees delivered at the end of the week. 

“Do you think you should have told Gabriel first?” Dean asked as they walked away. 

Castiel shook his head. “He’d only try to stop me getting them.”

Dean wondered how angry Sam would be if Dean had suddenly bought something like a hive of bees back when they were living together at Stanford. Sam would probably be livid. Admittedly, they’d shared a small, two bedroom apartment and Castiel and Gabriel lived on a farm, but Dean still thought fireworks would fly once Gabriel found out. 

There was music coming from another tent. The town band was playing in there. It was a brass band, not to Dean’s tastes, but he knew some of the songs they were playing. It was the kind of thing that had been in his grandfather’s record collection. His dad used to play those songs on an old record player, dancing around the kitchen with Dean and Dean’s mum. At least, he had, before the fire that killed her. All his grandfather’s records had been destroyed too. 

The wave of nostalgia that washed over Dean was unexpected. He gripped Castiel’s hand tightly, tugging him towards the tent. 

“Come on, we’re going to dance,” he said. 

“Dance?” Castiel yelped. “Dean, I don’t dance!” 

“It’s easy,” Dean promised him. 

“But my quilt,” Castiel protested. 

“Someone will hold it for you,” Dean said. They reached the tent quickly. There was a circle of people standing and watching the band and inside them a smaller circle of people already dancing. It wouldn’t be as if Castiel and Dean would be the only ones. Dean hoped that might put Castiel at ease. Anyone could dance. Castiel just needed the right partner. 

He spotted Jody Mills standing and chatting to the gruff old man Dean remember as Judge Bobby Singer.

“Hey,” he called, dragging Castiel up to them. “Can you watch Castiel’s quilt? We’re going to dance.” 

Jody looked bemused as she accepted the quilt to hold. Dean caught Castiel mouthing “Help me!” to her as he tugged him out. He pulled Castiel in to his arms, grinning at him. 

“No one’s going to help you now,” he whispered, enjoying the way Castiel’s eyes widened comically. 

“I really can’t dance,” Castiel muttered, glancing away from Dean’s face and down at his feet. 

The song the band was playing was a slow one. It didn’t require any actual skill; just the ability to sway in time to the music and Dean could help Castiel do that. 

“Come on,” he whispered, “Put your arms around my neck, close your eyes. I’ll help you.”

Castiel’s arms slid up, around Dean’s neck and he closed his eyes obediently. He was still standing there ram-rod straight, looking completely uncomfortable. Dean placed his hands on Castiel’s hips. He started to move, swaying his own hips from side to side, guiding Castiel with him. 

“You’re so stiff,” Dean murmured. 

“People are watching,” Castiel said, his cheeks flushing red. 

“Don’t think about them, just think about me,” Dean said. “Listen to the music and imagine we’re alone.” 

That seemed to loosen Castiel up. He began to move in time with the music, following Dean’s lead. He looked beautiful and very serious, his nose scrunched up as he copied Dean’s steps. Dean didn’t know how Castiel had got this far in life without someone asking him to dance. He fit so well in to Dean’s arms that Dean just wanted to keep him there. He knew the song would be ending soon, that Castiel probably wasn’t ready for anything fast and more difficult, but he didn’t want to let Castiel go. He wished that the song would never finish. 

It had to come to an end though. Dean had had three minutes of Heaven, holding Castiel close and swaying against him, before it was all over. There was just time to clap and then the band had started up on some fast swinging jazz tune. 

Castiel opened his eyes, looking at Dean. He shook his head quickly. 

“I can’t dance to this!” he said.

“I won’t make you,” Dean promised. He regretfully stepped away from Castiel, getting ready to slip back into the crowd. “You did really good.” 

Castiel smiled fleetingly at him then ducked back into the crowd. Dean followed him. He found Castiel collecting his quilt from Jody, bashfully dealing with her and Bobby Singer’s compliments. 

“You two looked good out there,” Jody said, glancing quickly at Dean. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you dancing before, Castiel.”

“I wasn’t dancing. Poor Dean had to tell me how to do everything,” Castiel said. He held his quilt tightly in his arms, hugging it against his chest, a security blanket against the rest of the world. 

“All I did was tell you to close your eyes and hold on to me, you did everything else,” Dean said, slinging his arm around Castiel’s shoulder, squeezing him tight. He knew Castiel didn’t want to talk about it. He was glad that Castiel had let him dance with him, that he’d been brave enough to let Dean do it in front of all these people, but he understood that Castiel didn’t want to dwell on it. The next time he asked Castiel to dance, it would be in the privacy of the farm house and for their eyes only. 

“You haven’t been round to look at your car yet, have you?” Bobby Singer said, distracting Dean for a second. He’d hardly given his car a second thought and that wasn’t like Dean at all. He’d just been so preoccupied with Castiel, and the farm, that the repairs to the Impala had never crossed his mind. 

“No, sir, I haven’t,” he answered politely. “I’ve been trying to fix the mess I made.” 

Bobby Singer looked him over, nodding thoughtfully.

“Maybe Castiel’ll give you a few hours off later and you can come over and take a look at it. I think she just needs a few dents worked out of her and a new coat of paint.” 

“I’m happy for Dean to take a bit of time off, if he wants it,” Castiel said, leaning in to Dean’s arms, his body slotting against Dean’s. “He’s nearly finished painting the barn.” 

“Great,” Dean said happily. “I’ll drop by some time then and take a look at her.”

He and Castiel said their goodbyes, Dean nodding politely to Jody, before they continued on their way, heading back out into the bright sunshine. Dean felt good. He felt better than good. He knew why Jody had been throwing him looks, but he also knew that he wasn’t hurting Castiel. If anything, he was good for Castiel. He was drawing Cas out of his shell, getting him to try new things and convincing him to do the things he’d always wanted. 

“We’re going to be all over town now after that display,” Castiel said quietly. He didn’t sound upset though. He sounded jubilant. 

“You want people to talk about you?” Dean teased. 

“It’ll be nice to be talked about without people sighing and saying what a good boy I am,” Castiel said, rolling his eyes. “Everyone still treats me like a teenager. This will give them something else to talk about.”

“I’ll show you off some more than,” Dean said, grinning.

Castiel tilted his head up, smiling at Dean. Dean felt warm all over, warmed from the inside out. 

“You still haven’t won me my prize,” Castiel said. 

“Just you wait,” Dean murmured, digging his fingers into Castiel’s side and tickling him till Castiel gasped for air. Dean would always be grateful to Gabriel for teaching him that Castiel was so sensitive. It came in very useful for distracting Castiel. 

Finally Castiel managed to wiggle his way out of Dean’s hold. He ran on ahead, laughing breathlessly till he can to a high striker, a test of strength game. Every fair or carnival Dean had ever been to had had one of those. It had always been a game Dean had thought was rigged. He’d never managed to get the bell to ring, no matter how hard he hit. 

Castiel stopped, waiting for Dean to catch up with him. 

“Go on, show me how strong you are,” he said. 

“Just ring the bell and win a prize,” the man running the game said. “Only one dollar.” 

“I’m not sure,” Dean started. He didn’t think he could take another blow to his masculinity if he failed, especially if Castiel then picked up the mallet and managed to ring the bell himself. Dean knew Castiel spent a lot of time working with his hands, but even so, Dean would have said he was the stronger of the two. 

“You can win your boyfriend a nice toy,” the man wheedled. “There’s a toy cat, I bet Castiel would like it if you won him that.” 

It didn’t even surprise Dean that the man knew Castiel. Everyone in town knew who Castiel was. 

“I do like cats,” Castiel agreed, smiling. 

“Okay, I’ll give it a go,” Dean said, hoping that he wouldn’t regret it. He handed over his money and accepted the heavy mallet. “How many swings do I get?” 

“Three,” the man said. 

Dean lifted the mallet, weighing it in his hands. He wondered how the game was fixed, if it was the weight of the mallet or if the system was rigged so it wouldn’t hit the bell, no matter how hard Dean hit it. It wasn’t fair that he’d be losing through no fault of his own. 

Dean lifted the mallet up, over his shoulder and brought it down with as much force as he could. The little puck shot straight up, bashing in to the bell and it rung out clearly. Dean staggered back, taken by surprise. Castiel smiled proudly at him. 

“I’ll take that toy cat, please,” he said, pointing to it. 

**

Although they’d come to the fair in the car, Dean and Castiel ended walking back to the farm on their own. Once Gabriel had sold out of pie, it turned out he had been up all night baking and he was dog tired. Sam volunteered to help him back to the house and they’d driven off in the car, accompanied by everything that had been bought or won that day, leaving Dean and Castiel to slowly make their own way home. 

They’d stayed at the fair a little while longer. Dean had even managed to convince Castiel to dance with him again. They’d eaten fresh burgers from the grill, covered in relish and Dean didn’t think he’d ever had a better date. He’d never had a date that lasted as long as this one had. Most of his dates only ran to a few hours and that included time spent in bed. 

It was dusk when they finally began heading home. They walked with their fingers entwined, Dean humming some song he’d heard the band playing. He felt good, he felt alive. He felt more alive with Castiel than he had in a long time. The stars where starting to come out, the night sky completely clear and Dean marvelled at how beautiful and bright they looked. That was one of the pleasures of living in countryside. Everything seemed that much brighter, that much sharper. To Dean’s mind, even the boys were more beautiful in the countryside. He knew he’d never seen anything as lovely as Castiel back in Stanford, or the place they’d lived before moving there.

People like Castiel grew in wide open spaces. Dean didn’t think Castiel would be happy being caged. He was at home in his acres of farmland with his apple trees and his cat. Dean thought if you put him in a suit and tie it would be too much for him, it would dwarf him. He was perfect just here. 

“You know,” Dean said as they made their way through the orchard, the branches just starting to strain under the weight of early fruit. “Gabriel makes the best apple pie I’ve ever eaten.”

“It’s an old family recipe,” Castiel said. “Maybe if you stick around, he’ll share it with you.” 

“And I thought you were going to tell me it was all down to the apples,” Dean said. 

Castiel reached out, picking one of the low hanging fruit. It was ripe and red, a small, perfectly formed apple. He offered it up to Dean and in that moment Dean understood the story of Adam and Eve, and why Adam would have been tempted. If Castiel was offering him sin, Dean would have gladly taken it from him. In the moonlight, Castiel was too much to resist. He seemed to belong to the trees and to the silver. 

Dean took the apple from him, biting down in the crisp, tart fruit. The juice rushed out on to his tongue. Dean would never have thought something as wholesome and ordinary as an apple, could become lust worthy but it had. All of this felt forbidden, from the stolen early apple, to the way Castiel watched him, his eyes heavy-lidded. Castiel was the ultimate forbidden fruit, untouched and unspoiled. Dean wanted to consume him. 

He swallowed his mouthful and licked his lips, watching Castiel carefully. 

“Do you like it?” Castiel asked softly.

Dean nodded. 

That was apparently all Castiel needed. A second later he was in Dean’s arms, his mouth pressed hungrily against Dean’s, kissing him with a passion and a desperation Dean wouldn’t have thought Castiel capable of. He dropped the apple, letting it roll off in to the grass at their feet and he wrapped his arms around Castiel, wanting to keep him as close as he could, as close as they could get while both fully clothed. 

Dean spun them round, pushing Castiel up against the apple tree. Maybe there were too many layers between them? Maybe they should be naked and Dean could claim Castiel out here, under the starry night sky and the canopy of leaves. He wanted to do that. Dean wanted to get them naked and have Castiel up against the tree. It was primal, the need he had for Castiel. 

He broke the kiss, panting for breath. 

“I want you, Cas,” he murmured, starting to push up Castiel’s shirt, eager to get at the pale skin below. Castiel’s head thumped back against the tree trunk and he gasped, his eyes opening wide.

“Dean,” he whispered as Dean slid his hand up, pinching and tugging at one of Castiel’s nipples, feeling it harden under his touch. 

“What do you want, Cas?” Dean asked.

Castiel shifted, licking his lips. He looked at Dean, finally meeting his eye. 

“I haven’t had a boyfriend since high school,” he said quietly, his voice trembling just slightly. “I haven’t had time. There’s never been anyone.” He licked his lips. “I like you, Dean, but I want to take things slowly.”

That hadn’t been what Dean was expecting. He knew Castiel was shy and he knew what Jody had told him, about Castiel being cut off and too involved in running the farm to think about relationships, but Dean had thought there must have been someone. Castiel was too stunning for no-one to have tried. Maybe they had tried, but Castiel hadn’t been interested. It made Dean feel humble, knowing that Castiel would open up to him. 

It had been a long time for Castiel. Dean understood why Castiel would want to take things slowly. Neither of them were exactly teenagers any more. 

“We’ll go as slow as you want,” he said, bending his head to kiss Castiel quickly. 

Castiel smiled at Dean, drawing him in for another kiss. 

“I do want these kisses though,” he murmured against Dean’s lips. “And I want you to hold me, and touch me. I liked today.” 

“Yeah? I liked it too. It felt good, showing you off to everyone,” Dean said. He bent his head, nuzzling at Castiel’s neck, pressing kisses there. He resisted the urge to bite Castiel, to give him a mark he could wear proudly tomorrow. He peppered kisses up and down the length of Castiel’s neck instead, enjoying the soft moan that escaped Castiel’s mouth. 

The moonlight shone down on them, illuminating them in silvery, surreal light. The farm house was only a little way away from them, lit up from the inside. Neither Dean nor Castiel were in any hurry to reach it though. They still had so much of each other to explore. Just because they were taking things slow didn’t mean there weren’t a hundred different kisses they needed to share before they reached the farm house. 

**  
Three Days later – Ten days of community service left:

Dean hadn’t been so obsessed with first base since he was fourteen years old. If anyone had told him he’d be happy just making out with Castiel, Dean wouldn’t have believed them. He was in a state of perpetual sexual frustration but it didn’t bother him the way it had done in the past. 

He went to bed dreaming about Castiel, about getting him naked and licking him all over, spreading his legs and driving in to him, but Dean was happy. The frustration just made him enjoy the kisses he snatched even more. For once, Dean found himself happy with waiting. 

He was happy to wait for Castiel. 

Gabriel and Sam had noticed. It would have been impossible for them not to. Dean wasn’t exactly holding back now. He touched Castiel openly, kissed him whenever he got the chance, flirted with him shamelessly and Castiel encouraged him. 

Castiel’s bees had arrived, just as promised, and Gabriel had kicked up the fuss Castiel had predicted. Dean had been distracted from his work, helping him set up at the very far edge of the orchard, enjoying Castiel’s delight as the bees finally emerged from their hive. 

Dean had been so wrapped up in Castiel, in their new found happiness, that when he came downstairs one morning to find Sam and Gabriel sitting at the kitchen table together, holding hands, he was completely at a loss for words. 

“What?” he said, confused, breaking them out of their whispered conversation. 

Sam looked up at him in shock, trying to untangle his fingers from Gabriel’s but Gabriel just held on tighter. 

“How long has this been going on?” Dean asked. He tried to think back, tried to retrace their steps. He knew he and Castiel had been on their own more often than not, that by default they’d left Sam and Gabriel alone together, but Dean hadn’t had a single clue. “When did this start?” he said, needing an answer now. 

“When Becky brought the pie for us,” Sam said quietly and Dean was glad that there were no attempts to pretend something wasn’t going on. At least he could rely on Sam to be honest. 

“I was jealous,” Gabriel said. “And I do make much better pie. Sam kept teasing me about it and it just snowballed. I suppose, really, it started for me when I saw you and Sam the first time. Flirting with you was fun, but Sam’s just taller.” He punched Sam in the arm, grinning at him. “I just have a thing for tall men.” 

Dean groaned. “Gabriel, look, could you go and…I don’t know, do something? I need to talk to Sam.” 

Gabriel nodded, chair scrapping along the kitchen floor as he pushed it back, getting to his feet. 

“Sure, I guess you two have a lot to talk about.” He winked at Dean as he passed him, heading for the stairs. “And just so you know, my intentions are completely dishonourable.” 

Dean bit his lip, forcing himself not to smile. He couldn’t help liking Gabriel, but he didn’t want to show that to Sam. He still wanted to find out what the hell Sam was thinking. Dean knew Sam’s type. He liked clever, quick-witted girls. He also knew that Sam didn’t just jump into relationships. Sam was a serial monogamist. He didn’t just jump in to bed with people. Dean didn’t care that Gabriel was a man. That didn’t bother him in the slightest. Sam could experiment and Dean was glad he was, but he was worried that Sam wanted something more than just an experiment. 

Dean drew out a chair, sitting down at the table. Sam looked nervous. That wasn’t a good sign. 

“So,” Dean said after a moment. “You and Gabriel, huh?”

“Me and Gabriel,” Sam agreed, nodding. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“All I care about is how serious you two are,” Dean said. He didn’t think Gabriel was serious. Gabriel seemed to have a hard time being serious about anything but food. He’d never even taken Dean aside and asked about his intentions towards Castiel. 

Sam ran a hand through his hair, glancing away, unable to meet Dean’s eye.

“We haven’t really talked about that. Gabriel changes the subject when I bring it up,” Sam said. “But I was thinking that it’s really nice down here. You’re happy, and Cas and Gabriel are here, and I think I could get work here. People down here need lawyers too. Gabriel was telling me about all the land disputes and...”

“But you have a job!” Dean interrupted him. This was what he’d been dreading. Sam was hopeless like this. He couldn’t just accept that he was having fun with Gabriel, that it was a summer romance that didn’t need to go anywhere. He was already trying to plan out a life around Gabriel. Dean didn’t think Gabriel would even want that, especially if he kept shutting Sam down when Sam tried to talk about it. Gabriel was just having a good time, but Sam was planning to throw away his whole future. 

“I know, but I’m not sure I want to live in New York,” Sam said, looking at Dean guiltily. 

“You were pretty sure before,” Dean said. Sam had been so excited, planning his new life. Sam had been willing to leave Dean behind, to move half-way across the country. It stung to know that Sam would leave him but consider changing his plans to fit Gabriel in to them. “You have a good job; you’re going to have a career. You hardly know Gabriel. Don’t you think you’re moving too fast?” 

Sam blinked at him, seeming confused. 

“I really like him, Dean,” he said earnestly. 

Dean sighed. 

“It’s not like you two can’t visit each other or call when you get to New York. Sam, I’m not trying to hurt you but I’ve got to tell you, Gabriel might not want you to stay past the end of summer. Not everyone wants a fling to last.” 

Sam frowned. 

“I don’t think it’s a fling,” he said quietly.

“It might not be, but don’t burn your bridges before you know,” Dean said. “The grass isn’t always greener, Sam.” 

Sam nodded slowly. He didn’t seem convinced. 

Dean wished Sam could understand. Not everyone wanted the life Sam did. Not everyone wanted something that lasted forever. Some relationships flourished in the hot sun of summer, but very few of them lasted when winter came. Sam should have learned that for himself by now. 

It was just like him and Castiel. 

Dean knew they would be over by the time the summer ended. 

**  
Six Days later – Four days of community service left:

Dean still hadn’t gotten around to mending the fence. He’d finished the barn. It looked good, even if Dean did say so himself. He should have gotten straight on to fixing the fence. The more work he did, the sooner he had it done, the sooner he’d be able to finish driving Sam to New York. Dean knew that. He still found himself heading across town when he should have been fixing the fence, ending up at Bobby Springer’s salvage yard. The man had been right. Dean’s baby hadn’t been too badly damaged. All she’d needed was some work done on her to smooth out the dents and repaint her bodywork. 

Dean loved working on his car. He loved seeing her return to the beautiful, gleaming well-cared for creature she’d been before the crash. 

Castiel didn’t seem to mind that Dean was fixing his car instead of working on the fence. He listened to Dean talk about his car, smiling indulgently at him and he kissed him whenever Dean got too technical for his tastes. Dean had found himself talking more about engines and fuel tanks than he normally would, trying to get more of Castiel’s kisses for himself. 

He was sat out in the sunlight now, polishing the Impala. Bobby Singer was sat on his back porch, watching him. The man hardly said two words to Dean, but Dean was used to that by now. The man often came and sat out on the porch, beer in hand, and watched him work. At first, Dean had found it unnerving but now he was used to it. 

He thought that Bobby Singer was impressed by him, but Dean doubted the man would ever say it. 

Dean stood back, admiring his work. The car shone in the sunlight. When Dean had finished his community service, the Impala would be able to drive Sam to New York in style. Dean felt an itch inside him, a desire to go for a drive but he knew he couldn’t. There was really nothing else for him to do. The Impala was gleaming and ready, but it was Dean who couldn’t go. 

He sighed, packing away the rag and polish. He ran his hand over the bonnet, wishing he could hear the roar of the engine. There were so many quiet back roads around the town. Dean could take Castiel out for a drive. Castiel would probably know somewhere the two of them could park up, somewhere private where they wouldn’t be interrupted. The thought of having Castiel in the backseat of his car made Dean smile, made him long to be back at the farm house. 

“I’m going to go now,” he called out to Bobby on the porch. 

“Wait a minute,” the man shouted back, getting to his feet. He came down the steps and towards Dean, stopping to take a good look at the Impala when he reached them. “You take good care of that car. You had any training?”

“I’m a mechanic,” Dean said. 

“I could use someone you like, if you’d thought about staying,” Bobby said, nodding to the car. “Not everything I tow is worth scrapping.”

“Are you offering me a job?” Dean asked incredulously. 

He didn’t think Bobby Singer even liked him. He certainly didn’t think the man liked him enough to want to work with him. 

Bobby shrugged. 

“The jobs there if you want it,” he said gruffly, turning away from Dean, heading back to the porch. 

Dean stared after him, at a loss for words. Then he took off, running out of the salvage yard, running down the road outside, heading back to the farm house. There was only one person he wanted to talk to, only one person he wanted to know the good news. 

He found Castiel in the orchard, coming back from the bees. He was in his bee-keeping outfit, completely wrapped and veiled from head to toe. Dean caught him around the waist and picked him up, spinning him around. He managed to knock Castiel’s veil off as he did, laughing happily. 

“What’s gotten in to you?” Castiel asked, gasping and clinging on to Dean. 

“Bobby Singer just offered me a job,” Dean said proudly, pausing in his spinning to kiss Castiel. 

“A job? That’s wonderful,” Castiel said, delighted. “Are you staying then?” 

Dean set Castiel back down carefully. If he accepted the job, then he would be staying, he reasoned. He knew what Castiel was really asking. He was asking if Dean was going to stay with him. He tugged Castiel a little closer, fingers locked together and kissed him gently. 

“I guess I am,” he agreed. 

Castiel smiled at him. 

“I hoped you would,” he said. He tugged on Dean’s hand, pulling him towards the farm house. “Come to bed with me. I’m ready now.” 

Dean felt his heartbeat quicken. He hadn’t planned on staying. He hadn’t planned on doing anything but driving straight through the town. His whole life was still back in Stanford. Everything with Castiel was new and uncharted, Dean hadn’t planned for it. He still let himself be led towards the house, still followed Castiel up the stairs and across the creaking floorboards of the landing to Castiel’s bedroom. 

Castiel’s bedroom was filled with photos, pictures of himself and his siblings, pictures of Castiel with his parents. They were all over the walls, framed and cared for. The bee quilt Castiel had bought at the fair was on his bed. It looked good there, homely and welcoming, not something Dean would have expected himself to like but he did. He liked the old wooden furniture, liked the fact that the bed springs squeaked when he sat down, liked that a moment later Castiel was shimming out of his bee-keepers clothes. 

Castiel stood in front of him, looking shy in just his jeans and a t-shirt. Slowly, he hooked his fingers under the hem of his shirt and peeled it off. His was pale and skinny, Dean could see his ribs sticking out. His fingers itched to touch, to brush up and down and see how ticklish Castiel really was but he kept them clenched in his lap, kept watching Castiel.

Castiel looked at him shyly, wiggling out of his jeans. Dean whistled appreciatively. 

“You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you?” he said, reaching out for Castiel. He could see the outline of Castiel’s cock in his boxers, hard and straining against the thin white material. He wanted to tug those boxers down and get his hands on Castiel, touch him all over. 

Castiel crawled in to Dean’s lap, kissing the corner of his mouth. 

“You’re still dressed,” he chided. 

Dean laughed, shrugging off his jacket and pulling off his shirt. He grabbed hold of Castiel’s hips, feeling how bony he was. Castiel was all muscle and bone, tightly wound. Dean licked his lips, his own cock thickening as he felt Castiel rub against him. 

“I can’t take anything more off if you’re in my lap,” Dean murmured, his fingers biting in to Castiel’s hips, grinding up against him. He wanted to be out of his jeans, out of his boxer shorts and inside of Castiel. 

Castiel laughed, rolling off Dean’s lap and on to the bed. He reached down between his legs, squeezing himself through his shorts. Dean watched him, licking his lips. He jumped to his feet, shoving his jeans and boxers down in one quick movement. His cock bobbed free and Dean didn’t miss the way Castiel’s eyes widened when he saw it.   
Dean settled back down on the bed, reaching a hand out to touch Castiel’s thigh, the touch reassuring, just stroking over the bare skin.

“I know you said you hadn’t done this since high school,” he said softly. “But I promise you, I’m better than the boys you had back then. I’ll make you feel so good.”

Castiel smiled at him. It was an odd smile, like he was laughing at a joke Dean didn’t understand. 

“What?” Dean asked. If Castiel thought he was just bragging, then Dean could provide him with the testimony of more than a dozen men whose world he’d rocked. Or Castiel could just lie back and experience it for himself. 

“I said I hadn’t had a boyfriend since high school. I never said I’d had sex,” Castiel said. 

“Oh,” Dean said. He hadn’t been expecting that.

“It’s not a big deal,” Castiel said, pushing himself up on his elbows, looking at Dean nervously. “It just never happened. I know what I want, Dean, and I know what I like. I don’t just wash my hair when I’m in the shower.”

He reached out, grabbing Dean’s hand. He brought it to rest on the bulge in his boxers, letting Dean feel just how hard he was. 

“I want you to touch me.” 

Dean swallowed. He’d thought Castiel had some experience, even if it was limited. He hadn’t expected Castiel to be a virgin. Dean normally steered clear of virgins. There were so many expectations, so many things that could go wrong. Castiel didn’t seem worried though. He pushed his hips up demandingly, grinding against the palm of Dean’s hand, silently begging Dean to do more to him. 

Castiel knew what he wanted. Dean didn’t have to worry that Castiel would regret this or think it was a mistake. Castiel had flirted back with him right from the start, he was the one who’d suggested they go skinny dipping together, he was the one who’d kissed Dean first and he was the one who’d taken Dean’s hand and led him upstairs to his bedroom. To worry about the fact that it was Castiel’s first time, when Castiel had been trying to tell him for so long just how ready he was, seemed pointless. 

Dean was the one with the hang ups. Castiel was achingly hard and spread out so pretty, waiting for Dean. 

Dean gave Castiel’s cock a squeeze, enjoying the gasp that got him. He reached up, grabbing hold of the waistband of Castiel’s boxers and tugged them down, licking his lips at the first sight of Castiel’s cock. It was gorgeous – slim, slightly curved and a dark, dusky pink at the head. Castiel wiggled, helping Dean to pull his boxers off and then he spread his legs, completely unashamed. 

Dean settled between them, covering Castiel with his body. His bent his head to press a kiss to Castiel’s shoulder, pushing their hips together. 

“Your first time, you tell me what to do,” he said, peppering kisses along Castiel’s too-sharp collarbone. “What have you been dreaming of?” 

There were some things Dean wouldn’t do, some bridges he wouldn’t cross, but he figured they’d deal with those issues when they came to them, not before. 

Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean, stroking his fingers over the warm, soft skin of Dean’s back, tactile and sensitive, getting used to the feeling of another naked body so close to his own. 

“I want you to fuck me,” he said. 

“Yeah?” Dean moved a little, just enough to slip a hand in between them, between Castiel’s legs, pressing the tip of one finger against Castiel’s hole. “You ever have anything in here before?” 

Castiel wiggled, bucking his hips hungrily. “Yes,” he hissed. “My fingers, other things, I’m creative. I know I like it.” 

Dean groaned softly, the image of Castiel so desperate for something inside him, improvising with whatever he could get his hands on, made his cock jump, made him wet. Once he’d fucked Castiel, shown him how good the real thing could be, Dean wanted to watch Castiel improvise. 

“Lube?” he asked. 

“Under the bed, you better let me get it,” Castiel said, his hold tightening on Dean for a moment, as if he didn’t want to let him go, but then he pushed Dean away and rolled over on to his stomach, fishing under the bed and giving Dean a perfect view of his ass as he did. 

He came up a second later with a plain little tube, throwing it behind him for Dean to catch. He spread his legs again, tilting his hips up. 

“I heard it was easier like this,” Castiel said, glancing over his shoulder. “From behind, I mean.” 

Dean uncapped the lubricant, smearing some on his fingers. 

“I can fuck you like this,” he said, leaning over Castiel, pressing his fingers back against Castiel’s tight little hole. “Do you want me to?” 

Castiel bit his lip. “No, not really. I want to see you.” 

Dean settled down beside him, lying stretched out and face to face with Castiel when Castiel turned his head, his fingers still rubbing against Castiel’s hole. 

“Okay,” he said, leaning in to steal a kiss. “We can do it like this, spooning side by side, but I’m not going to get very deep, or we can do it missionary.”

Castiel grinned at him. “Missionary, I think.” 

Dean kissed him again, distracting Castiel as he fed him one finger, easing it in gently, and then a second. Castiel took them better than he’d thought he would, relaxing around the intrusion, welcoming him. It was clear that he was used to it. Dean couldn’t help find the thought of Castiel fucking himself on his fingers, maybe even thinking of Dean while he did it, incredibly hot. 

He pressed a third finger in to Castiel, thrusting them, slowly at first but then faster, trying to get Castiel used to the feeling, trying to mimic the pace he was going to set when he fucked Castiel. Castiel took it eagerly, moaning into Dean’s kiss as he snapped his hips back on the fingers inside him. 

Dean pressed his fingers deeper, searching for the right spot inside Castiel and he knew he’d found it when Castiel jerked back from him, gasping loudly. 

“Dean! You’ll make me come,” he said warningly, grinding between the bed and Dean’s fingers, trying to get Dean to touch him again, but Dean had got the warning. Castiel might have touched himself, but that had been just about getting himself off, making himself come. It wasn’t about another person being there too. Castiel had a hair-trigger and if Dean kept teasing him, he’d come before the final act. 

Another time, Dean told himself, he’d get Castiel off just by using his fingers and then he’d fuck him till Castiel was hard again, but not today. There was such a thing as too much, too soon and Castiel had already told Dean what he needed. 

He pulled his fingers free, reaching for the lubricant again to stroke over his cock while Castiel scrambled up, falling back against the pillows on his bed and waiting for Dean to join him. Dean didn’t think he’d ever seen anything that looked as good as Castiel did now, his legs spread, his hole wet and pink, watching Dean hungrily. No one else Dean had ever been with had made him feel this way. He’d never been so eager before. 

He finished slicking up his cock, dropping the tube back on to the floor and he crawled between Castiel’s legs. 

“You are so beautiful, Cas,” Dean whispered, kissing him again, slower this time, wanting to capture this moment forever. He wanted to remember Castiel like this. He wanted to remember everything about Castiel in this moment. It was special and not just because it was Castiel’s first time. It was special because it was Castiel. 

Dean wrapped his fingers around his cock, moving so the head was pressed tight up against Castiel’s hole and he broke the kiss just long enough to ask “Ready?” and get Castiel’s nod of approval. He pressed forward slowly, watching Castiel’s face, the little crease of pain in his brow when Dean breeched him. 

“It’s okay, Cas. You’re doing so good,” he murmured, rubbing Castiel’s thigh, trying to get him to relax. “If you want me to stop, just tell me to stop.”

“Don’t you dare,” Castiel hissed, opening his eyes to look at Dean. “Keep going!”

“Okay, okay,” Dean said, pressing kisses along Castiel’s jaw. He slid the rest of the way in, just as slowly, unable to believe how tight and hot Castiel felt around him. He almost couldn’t believe that he was actually doing this, that it wasn’t a dream. Castiel gazed up at him, the momentary pain having melted away and he smiled at Dean. 

“This feels so much better than fingers,” he said, starting to roll his hips, squirming around on Dean’s cock. Dean had wanted to give him a little more time, let Castiel adjust, go slow, but Castiel didn’t want slow. Dean loved how responsive he was, how much Castiel enjoyed it. Castiel wasn’t anything like Dean had feared when he’d heard the word virgin. He wasn’t blushing or unresponsive. He was amazing.

Dean grabbed hold of Castiel’s hips, cradling them as he started to fuck in to Castiel in earnest, the pace harder than he’d intended but Castiel could take it. Dean knew he’d leave bruises, that Castiel would be sore and that he’d ache afterwards but that was the point. Castiel was going to feel well fucked and he was going to look it. 

Castiel clutched at him, nails scratching down Dean’s back. He kept moaning, louder with each thrust and Dean was so glad they’d switched positions because as good as it would have been to fuck Castiel from behind, to have him up on his hands and knees, presenting himself to Dean, it was even better to have him like this, to be able to see him and see the pleasure on his face when Dean hit the right spot. 

Dean wondered if he could get Castiel to come just from fucking him. Maybe not this time, but he thought he could. Castiel was so responsive. Dean reached between the two of them, wrapping his fingers around Castiel’s cock. There were so many things he wanted to do to Castiel, so many things he wanted to try out, but right now he just wanted to make Castiel come so hard that he screamed. 

Dean worked his hand up and down Castiel’s cock, slowing his thrusts till he was stroking Castiel in time with them. Castiel whimpered, rocking back and forth, completely incoherent, reduced to a desperate mass of pleasure. He came suddenly, arching his back, crying out Dean’s name. Dean didn’t even try to hide how proud he was. Castiel flopped back on to the pillows, his cock twitching as he kept coming and Dean kept thrusting, gentle little thrusts till Castiel was completely spent. 

Dean pulled out of Castiel, wrapping his fingers around his still hard cock, stoking himself off while Castiel stared up at him, his eyes half-closed, boneless and sated. Knowing he’d done that to Castiel, that he’d been the first one to ever touch Castiel like that, pushed Dean over the edge. He came, biting down on his lip, splashing over Castiel’s stomach. 

For a few seconds he knelt there, panting for breath, his cock softening in his hand, just watching as Castiel ran his fingers through the come on his stomach, a mixture of his own and Dean’s, rubbing it in to his skin. 

Castiel looked at him, smiling. “I guess this means I’m yours now, doesn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” Dean said, rolling on to his side beside Castiel, tugging the other man in to his arms. Castiel settled against him, his head tucked under Dean’s chin. 

“I don’t want to move,” he said and Dean could hear how tired he was now, completely wiped out. 

“You haven’t got anything to do, have you?” he said, rubbing his hand up and down Castiel’s back. “Go to sleep.” 

Castiel wiggled around, trying to make himself more comfortable but after a moment he managed to find a position he liked. After a little longer, he was fast asleep. Dean looked down at him, still not able to believe that any of it was real. Dean knew he was lucky. He was too tired to think, too tired to dwell on anything but the warm weight of Castiel in his arms. 

He slowly, quietly, fell asleep, a smile on his face.

**

Dean woke with a start. 

His heart hammered in his chest. Castiel was still fast asleep, curled in his arms. There was another weight across his legs. It was dark in the room, but Dean could still make out the yellow eyes of Castiel’s cat as it stretched across him. Dean’s chest felt painfully tight suddenly. He felt trapped. 

He’d been fine when he’d gone to sleep, but now he realized just what he was doing. He was giving up everything, the life he’d had in Stanford, for Castiel and this wasn’t just a fling. Castiel didn’t want a fling. He wanted commitment. 

Dean didn’t want commitment. He’d never wanted to settle down, never wanted to be tied to someone. Castiel wanted someone to run the farm with him, to keep bees and look after his stupid cat and Dean hadn’t planned for any of this. He couldn’t be the man Castiel wanted.

He eased Castiel away from him, pushing him towards the pillows. Castiel wrapped his arms around the nearest pillow, hugging it close. It gave Dean a momentary pause. Then he shook his head. Castiel was sweet. He deserved someone better than Dean. He needed someone who wanted to take on all the responsibility of Castiel’s life. Dean couldn’t do that. He couldn’t make himself vulnerable again. 

He collected his clothes, pulling them on quietly. The cat was watching him, swinging her tail from side to side. She was judging him, Dean knew. He was judging himself but he still had to get out. Castiel would never forgive him. Dean had just taken his virginity and now he was running out on him. Castiel should hate him. It would make it easier. 

He found his shoes and tiptoed out of Castiel’s room. The floorboards squeaked but Dean kept going. He ran down the stairs and out of the front door. He paused for a moment to put on his shoes, then ran. 

Dean didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t have a plan. If he left town, if he skipped out on his community service, then he’d be a fugitive. He didn’t even have his car so he couldn’t get far. He had no plan, just the fear that he wouldn’t be enough for Castiel, that something would go wrong and Dean would be left alone again.

He reached the outskirts of the farm, stopping for breath. 

Dean turned then and looked back at the farm house. The sun was just starting to rise behind it and it looked beautiful. The whole farm did, with the orchard stretching as far as Dean could see. In one direction there was the pond that he and Castiel had swum in. In the other direction, Castiel’s bees would just be waking up. 

If he ran then he’d be leaving all of this. He’d be leaving Castiel and he was in love with Castiel. 

The pressure in Dean’s chest, the tightness he’d felt back in the bedroom, lifted. The fear ebbed away. Dean could feel it leaving his body, leaving his limbs light. 

He loved Castiel. 

The truth of it, the acknowledgement of it, took Dean by surprise. He didn’t know when he’d fallen in love with Castiel. It had been a gradual thing, but he felt as if he’d been in love with Castiel forever. He didn’t know how he’d been so blind, how he’d ever imagined that he and Castiel were just a summer romance. He’d been so preoccupied with not getting attached, with not making their fling a big thing, that he’d completely missed the fact that he was in love. 

Dean looked at the farm house again. With any luck, Castiel would still be asleep. He wouldn’t know that Dean had panicked like this and almost made such a huge mistake. Dean jogged back towards the house. He could go back up the stairs, get back in to bed with Castiel and kiss him awake. Dean wanted to wrap himself up in Castiel and never leave him. He wanted to tell Castiel just what he’d realized, that he was in love with him and he hoped that Castiel would say it back. 

As Dean got closer to the house, his heart sank. 

Castiel was awake already, standing on the porch in a dressing gown with a cup of coffee in his hand, watching him. He knew that Dean had gone then. He’d have woken up alone, found Dean’s clothes missing, gone downstairs and found Dean gone from the house. Now he was watching Dean coming back, tail tucked between his legs. 

Dean braced himself for the inevitable. His stupid fears were going to cost him Castiel. He had been so worried about opening his heart to Castiel, about being hurt, that he’d managed to destroy things all on his own. 

“I’m an idiot,” he said, stopping just short of the porch. 

“I know that,” Castiel said, taking a sip from his cup. 

“And I’m sorry. I know you don’t owe me anything, and that I’m a jerk who doesn’t know how lucky he is, but I love you, Cas.” 

Castiel looked at him, his face carefully expressionless. Dean didn’t think this was going over too well. He had no idea what Castiel was thinking. 

“And,” Dean said desperately, “I still need to fix the fence.” 

Castiel tapped his fingers on the side of his mug. 

“I am looking for someone to help out on the farm,” he said. “I suppose you could do the job.”

“I could,” Dean agreed, nodding. 

“I’d have to know you were reliable, that you wouldn’t run out on me,” Castiel said. He was clutching the mug tightly now, hugging it to his chest and Dean could hear the tremble in his voice. He hated himself for making Castiel feel this way, for making him doubt Dean’s devotion to him. 

He ran up the steps and pulled Castiel in to his arms. “I’m never going to leave again. Cas, I didn’t even know what I was doing but I do now. I know I love you. I know I want to stay here with you and run the farm and keep bees. I do.”

“That’s good,” Castiel murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “Because Gabriel told me yesterday that he’s going to New York with Sam.” 

“So it’s just going to be you and me?” Dean asked. He hadn’t expected that. He’d completely misread Gabriel. 

“Yes,” Castiel whispered. He clutched at Dean tightly. “Don’t leave me.” 

“I’ll never leave you, I love you,” Dean promised.

Castiel tipped his chin up, catching Dean’s mouth in a slow, chaste kiss. 

“I love you too,” he said. 

Dean felt his heart skip a beat. He couldn’t believe that he’d nearly run away from all of this. He’d been so scared about being hurt, so frightened about letting someone in and Castiel had been the same. They’d shut everyone else out, fearful that they’d be abandoned and left alone. They’d needed each other to break down their walls and show them the light. 

They could be vulnerable together now. 

They would never be alone again. 

“Come on,” Castiel said, taking hold of Dean’s hand and pulling him towards the front door. “I’ll put a fresh pot on the stove.”


End file.
